


Do You Mind? -Spideypool

by Bottom_PeteParker



Category: Deadpool - Fandom, Marvel, Spiderman - Fandom, spideypool - Fandom
Genre: Andrew Garfield - Freeform, Coincidences, College Student Peter, Criminal!Wade, Dopinder - Freeform, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Interrupted, M/M, Military Wade, Possibly a Soulmate AU, Slow Build, Smut, Spideypool - Freeform, Stan Lee Cameo, Strangers, Strangers to Friends, You know the cab driver in the DP movie, ajax - Freeform, aunt may - Freeform, cockblock, gang fic?, legal age gap, name drops - Freeform, no powers au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:21:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 28,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8981542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bottom_PeteParker/pseuds/Bottom_PeteParker
Summary: Peter Parker rides the subway in the night to clear his head from his busy school work. When he offers the empty seat next to him to a stranger it spirals into more meetings by chance. AU: in a crowded subway person A has an empty seat and offers it to person B. They see each other a lot-No Powers-***UNEDITED AT THIS TIME***





	1. Chapter 1

Peters music played through the silicone knobs at the end of his earbuds, even at full volume he could hear the loud subway train. People were usually quiet to some degree on trains, at most mumbling to their companions or on the phone. Another late night, sometimes he just let himself wander out of his apartment and onto the train to sit. He had a documents app on his phone, he was fine.

 

It was crowded in waves, since these days ‘late nights’ were anywhere ranging from noon one day and three A.M. the next. College threw his schedule around, the brilliance of the points he had to prove to be crowned the brightest kept him up sometimes, burning out his light. 

 

His shoulders rattle and his body sways as the train goes on, another tired round of New Yorkers shuffle onto the train for different reasons, sometimes Peter liked to guess. 

 

Walk of Shame,  
Homeless Man,  
Lost Tourist Here for Bachelorette Party,  
Homeless Man,  
Tourist,  
Twenty Four Hour Open Seven Eleven Store Worker,  
Homeless Man,

 

He liked to give them little lives so he could pretend his wasn't so bland. All the seats were taken except the one where his bag sat. A man in a leather jacket and hoodie was left standing. Usually, you were lucky to have a second of not breathing in the lunch breath of the people you're crushed against, but Peter still felt bad. He stood with his back to Peter with his hand hanging loosely on the rail, fingers flexing when the train jerked. Peter knew better than to touch someone on the subway, you'd get punched in an instant due to assumption that you had sticky hands reaching for a wallet. “Hey,” he called to the stranger, taking one earbud out and looking up. “Hoodie, you want a seat?” 

 

The large man turns around, eyes wide like a child. All the other eyes look in his direction as well, at least all the sober ones. His man was rough and scarred, and when he spoke his voice rumbled like thunder. “Me?” Peter nodded and lifted his possessions, showing that there was room. “Are you sure you don't mind? I'm okay with standing.” Peter shrugged. “Hey dude, take it or leave it. Up to you.” He lowers himself onto the seat and Peter rests his chin on the bag, letting the awkward moment come to the end.

 

“Thanks kid, not many people would let a pile of steaming shit sit next to them. My hero.” at the last part he laughs and pretends to swoon. As much as he'd prefer not to laugh and take his aunt's advice to not talk to strange people on the trains, he laughs back. “Thanks, always happy to help a damsel in distress.”

 

He pulled out the headphones and wrapped them around his phone before fastening them in a small pocket in the bag. “What are you doing here? You should be asleep, you look like a rounded person who likes some old fashioned sleep.” The stranger looked at him with large eyes and a lazy smirk. Peter just shrugs. “I take the midnight train, goin anywhere.”

 

Laughter booms. “Journey, good one. Wade, nice to meet you.” His hand is as scarred as the rest of his face and he holds it out for a shake. Pale skin clashes with pink patterns. “Peter” He grins then pulls away, adjusting his glasses.

 

“What kind of business are you into?” Their shoulders bumped together. “I'm in college. Scholarship for the new science program Bruce Banner created, paid for by Tony Stark.” Wade whistled. “Sexy and smart. Those are two of my favorite ‘S’ words.” Peter arched his eyebrow. “What are the others?”

 

“Spandex, spaghetti, and sensual.” 

 

They laughed again and a few people looked up and stared. They stopped for a moment as people got off the train and new ones came on. “What about spider? I got a nasty bite from one while working on a research project in high school.” 

 

Wade taps his chin. “I can consider it. There's very high standards for my lists.” Peter rolls his eyes. 

 

“So can I ask a question?” His hands fidgeted.

 

“Um...sure. I guess.” Wade nods and takes a deep breath. “You don't seem shocked-about how I look. Usually people freak out or stare and I just wanted to know if there's something that makes it less...this. So I can keep it up.” 

 

Peter looked at him, confused. “I don't know what you mean. I was just raised into good manners. Elbows off the table, help someone if they fall, please and thank you stuff. Staring at people who look different or are in wheelchairs and stuff is just plain rude.” Wade nods back.

 

“Thanks I guess. Tell your mom she did a good job with you.” Wade swings his arm behind the seat and turns to face Peter. “And your dad too. You're quite the looker.” 

 

Peter throws his head back and laughs, no one has ever come onto him. Especially this strong. “First of all, orphaned since I was little. Second of all, thanks for the compliment. Sadly the third part is my aunt always said don't go home with dark, mysterious guys on the train.”

 

He doesn't get a look of pity from Wade on the orphan part, which is a pleasant surprise. “Damn. Your aunt is a smart lady. Even though she pretty much instigated this whole situation she's making sure I don't get any ass. Cockblock.” 

 

They laugh again, Peter doesn't remember the last time he laughed this much. They both look up at the warning for the approaching next stop. “Wow we completely ignored the past two stops. I was suppose to get off at the last one. Have a good night Wade!” He stood up and walked over to the door. Wade whistles.

 

“Make sure you deliver my message to your aunt, because you have a fantastic ass! Fanassic, if you will.” The doors open. “Thanks for the seat!” The sun is rising when Peter walks up the stairs into the street. He walks the few blocks to his apartment and tosses his bag at the door. He puts his phone on the charger and smiles when he heads to the sink to wash his face.


	2. Chapter 2

When Peter gets on the train to go to school, he quickly looks around, just in case that stranger is there again. He scoffs to himself, of course he wouldn't be there. New York is not only huge and a popular tourist destination, but there's tons of trains all over. He stands the whole ride, holding onto the poles between all kinds of people. 

 

At school, he copies his notes, hands in his papers, and eats his lunch without any problems at all. When he gets done with everything he needs to do he eats dinner with Aunt May and they watch movies after their meal. They chat about his school, the lead actress’ inability to see that Bachelor Two was much better for her than One and Three, and before he knows it the clock reads one-thirty. 

 

“Be safe!” is called after a kiss on the cheek is received and Peter runs to the nears subway station. He drops himself into a seat and his lungs take in a deep breath.  
After a few stops a voice makes him open his eyes. 

 

Peter liked to think of himself as plain, brown hair brown eyes. There were countless people that looked like him, you'd never be able to spot him in a crowd. The face looking at him was instantly recognized.

 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Wade nods to the seat by the window. “Oh hi Wade.” He pats the seat and barely pulls his hand way before the big man plops down. “I'm honored you remembered my name. I thought it might be lost considering all the ugly guys who hit on you in the subway.” Peter smiles weakly. “Nope, you were the best at it, Id say top ten.” He covers his mouth as he yawns.

 

“You tired?” Wade rests his elbow on his knee and his face in his hands. “Yeah, no matter how many nights I can go without sleep it eventually catches up to me.” Peter rubs his eyes, suddenly more aware of how exhausted he was. 

 

“If you weren't this sleepy I'd try and ask you out to coffee, but your eyes keep closing and if you fall asleep I don't want you to think I drugged you or something.” Peter looks over at him. “I'll take you up on that offer another day….or rather night.” 

 

“So I have a chance? Nice!” Wade punches the air in a small victory celebration. “I'm shocked that I'm talking to you again, I didn't think the statistics were so slim that we'd cross paths.” Wade's expression dropped a little.

 

“Yeah me too...I hope you know I'm not stalking you or anything. I mean that's totally what a stalker would say, even if I'm not following you….sorry. I talk a lot when I'm nervous. Usually around cute people like you.” He rubs one of the scars on his hand. 

 

The skin was red anyway and Peter was afraid that this action could cause harm, no matter how minor. He places his hand over Wades. “Don't pick at it.”

 

Peter could feel the raised marks against his palm and he couldn't help run his thumb over a few. When he looked up his eyes met Wade's face. Peter felt a blush creep across his face. “Um...sorry.” He places his hand back in his own lap. Wade doesn't say anything and Peter is very aware of his warm eyes scanning his face.

 

“This might be weird and I know it's probably the stupidest idea on my part, but can you wake me up at the Main Street Station? I really dont think Ill be able to stay awake.” Peter rolls his head to the side. “Scouts honor. It's really nice that you have so much faith in me.”

 

“This is a really stupid idea.” Peter crosses his legs and folds his arms over his chest. When he exhales he stops trying to fight the force closing his eyes.

 

Hes awoken by a hand shaking his upper arm and a voice cooing his name. “Peter...wake up. Come on baby boy only one stop before yours.” His cheek is pressed against leather and he can smell the cheap cologne wears. Wade. “Oh my god, I didn't mean to sleep on you! You should have pushed me off or something!” Wade shrugs. “You looked like you could use the sleep. I don't mind.” 

 

Peter pushes the power button on his phone to check for any missed messages and he rubs the sleep from his eyes. He was out for fifteen minutes, more or less, and he felt strangely rested. The overhead speakers announced his stop. “Bye Wade!” He places his hand on the other man's shoulder and walks to the door. “See you around doll!” 

 

When he got home he fell asleep with his shoes on, because he was so tired. Peter normally didn't dream but in the morning he had a fading vision of a coffee date.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter laughed at himself for being so stupid.

“Come on Parker, you're better than this.” His hands gripped the sink and water dripped down his face for the recent splashing. He fell asleep on a strange man on the train, late at night. He was flirting with- no flirting and encouraging flirting with a strange man from the train. He was looking at every face that passed him the next day for the distinct sharp jaw and healed wounds of a strange man he met on a train. 

He had messed around with some guys before, he didn't mind the whole ‘homosexual tendencies’ thing. He minded that this was so reckless. He was logical, calculating, realistic. He wasn't the person to star in a rom-com based in New York. He knew the statistics were against him. Like getting struck by lightning, considering the sparks that flew between them. 

He got on one train at eleven. He rode it back and forth until one thirty. He got off and got on another, one fifty to three ten. Three forty-five to four fifty. Nothing. He was giving up, it was five am. He was disappointed even with the very clear truth that he'd never see this ‘Wade’ again. 

He's tired but thankful that he got the stupid fantasy out of his head once and for all. He made his way to a Starbucks, one above ground. After he gave his name to the barista he went to the bathroom to wash his hands.   
He sat down and took out his phone to pass the time. 

“Guy who already ordered seven other venti sized hot chocolates with whipped cream!” She rolled her eyes and Peter heard heavy boots run over. His name was called next. He always said his last name, since ‘Peter’ was as common as a cold.

“Peter Parker double chocolaty chip crème frappuccino blended crème grande!” He stood up to get it and heard stomps behind him and felt a hand on his shoulder. “Peter?!”

He spun around to be nose to nose with Wade grinning like a child on Christmas. Peter pushed up his glasses with his hand between their faces. His back was pressed against the cookie display window from the way he had to turn, his coffee on the counter and people staring. “Hey Wade.” 

Wade stepped back and grabbed Peter's coffee and threw money on the counter. “Want to sit with me? You ain't gotta or nothing.” He went from over confident and flirtatious to shy and unsure in an instant. “I'd love to.” He walked to the table where Wade pointed to. 

“Is this the coffee date you were talking about?” Peter looks up from the cup in his hand and Wade quickly brings a napkin to his mouth, coughing and choking. “Sorry I didn't expect you to say that.” 

Wade licks the whipped cream off the beverage, his tongue peeking out to collect it. It was odd against his cracked skin and Peter was staring at him as he did so. Wade looked at him and put the cup down, clearing his throat and wiping his face with the napkin again. “Sorry, did you lose your appetite?”

Understanding quickly that Wade through the focus was on his skin, Peter shook his head. “I was just watching you lick the whipped cream, I ‘pologize “ Wade didn't have eyebrows, but the muscles above his eyes twitched as if he was raising his eyebrows. “You were?” 

Peter laughs nervously. “Sorry that was just rude to do. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” Wade puts his hands on the table and leans over. “Don't worry about it baby boy!” His eyes are wild and he's smiling. Peter can smell the chocolate on his breath and his eyes drop to the rough lips for a second. Wade sits back and closes his eyes.

“How's your aunt?” Hes shocked Wade remembers. “Shes good. I saw her yesterday.” He nods in response. “Can I ask you a very serious question?”

“Um…” Peter's heart pounds. “Sure.”

“Is your middle name Paul or something. Your first and last name are Ps. I'm a triple W.” He laughs, Wade shrugging. “Wade Winston Wilson.” 

“You're kidding!”

“Nope. That's why whenever I type in a website I put the W-W-W Dot.” 

“My middle name is Benjamin, sorry.” He sips on his drink and looks at Wade over his glasses. “So P-B-P?”

“Yep. Peanut Butter Parker.” Wade gasps. “I was going to say that!” They laugh again, Peter's chest and sides aching. 

Peter thanked him for the drink and the company and left the building. When he was across the street he saw Wade standing at the door with his hand cupped over his mouth. “Hate to see you leave, love to watch you go!”


	4. Chapter 4

Peter left work late, on purpose. He played with the brightness setting on his wallpaper until the janitor told him to get lost. He was disappointed that it was only ten thirty, Wade seemed to be a spirit of the night. 

He got onto the train and wondered if Wade had been thinking about him too, anxiously hoping he'd see Peter standing, or rather sitting, there. He didn't want to disappoint him by not traveling every subway station in the state, but he really shouldn't be wasting his time like this. 

He went to the end of the line and back, then decided next time it stops at a station near his apartment hed go home. A lot of people came on as the last of people who worked a little later we're finally going home. One person looked out of place with the tired business men. A tight long sleeve shirt with sweatpants, running shoes, and a hat left the runner a lone person against the wriggled suits. He was tall and muscular, Peter absentmindedly licked his lips. 

He had to refrain from cheering as he looked at the bare face attached to the thick arms. Wade Winston Wilson. 

 

Peter pulled up his own hood, hatching a plan. He was never good at the fuckboy act, but at most he expected a laugh. He made his voice as deep as it could be and didn't even wait for the train to stop while walking over.

“Hey do you have a phone I can use? I need to check W-W-W Dot Hot Stuff Dot Com. Don't forget the three Ws”

Wade growled, not even looking up. “You're not touching my shit, back the fuck up.” Peter was shocked. Wade had a childlike humor and excitement level, this was a shock. He also left, because he was genuinely afraid. After all, this was a stranger.

The train stopped with a jerk and Peter was totally absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice, falling forwards into Wade's lap. “Listen buddy I- Peter?”

Wades breath relaxed and his arms tightened to secure Peter so he wouldn't fall onto the ground and be trampled. “Hi.” he squeaked, fearing a violent fate but relishing in the feel of the hard muscles flexing under him. 

“Oh that was you with the W thing...god Im sorry. Did I scare you?” His eyes scanned Peter's face while his own held a concerned expression. “Only a little bit.” 

Peter noticed a different sound attached to the ‘sorry.’ Hed ask about it if he ever got the chance. The train lurched forwards to continue its route and Peter yelped again, reaching around Wade's neck for stability. Wade also held his arms tighter around Peter's narrow frame. Once the train was riding smoothly Wade loosened up a little. 

“I'm just defensive sometimes. I really didn't mean to freak you out. I'd hate for our Serendipity movie to end without the ending.” Wade's thumb swirls around on Peter's hip. He shivers and tries to cover it with a laugh. “Does that make me Kate Beckinsale?” Wade smiles. “Totally.”

Peter was sitting on Wade's thigh but the next bump the train rattled over he slid further into Wade's lap, sucking in a gasp. Wade groaned too, but Peter had no idea why. Assuming he accidentally may have crossed some line or even hurt his acquaintance so he jumped up, cheeks burning red. “Sorry!” 

He was panicking, heart still racing from the threat and now the current situation, Peter took his chance by running off the train at the next stop. It was a long way away from his house but he decided it was worth it to pay for a cab.

The next morning he noticed his phone was gone, and he was pretty sure he had it after he got above ground. While running he bumped into many people, he could have dropped it or been pick pocketed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy 2k17 yall

Three days later Peter visited his aunt. He walked there all the way from his apartment to see her since she didn't drive and had begun to have a hard time seeing she never called. He had to take his chances crossing the city. He also refused to get on a train out of fear. It took almost twice as long but he deemed it worth it. When he got there she handed him his phone and a pink sticky note, surprising him.

 

“Peter! When I called you a few nights ago some saint of a man answered and said you left your phone on the train. He brought it to the church in less than an hour. Barbaras husband drove me there.” She rubbed his back when he sat at the kitchen counter, just staring at the sticky note.

 

‘srry 4 bothering u wont do it again. left this on seat. don't worry i didn't try n look @ it. sorry -WWW’

 

“He seemed upset and this note says you know him. Are you guys okay?” May gave him a soft smile. “He seemed very sweet.” 

 

Peter shrugged, feeling awful. He folded the note and put it under his phone case. “I've run in with him a few times. I freaked myself out, as you know is my trademark reaction.” She kissed his forehead and hugged him. “He left an address with me, a little bar.” Peter sat up instantly. “Can I have it?” May nods.

 

After she writes it down he kisses her on the cheek and calls an Uber. They take him to the bar and he bursts through the doors.“Has anyone seen Wade Wilson?!” He looked around and all the faces there laughed at him. Not average laughing, howling. 

 

“You one of Wilson's whores?”  
“He scam you during a ride home?”  
“Did you ride him home?”  
“Need help beating some guys up?”  
“Maybe you need to rob someone of some big items?”

 

If Peter knew one thing from his lifetime of being bullied it's pretend it doesn't bother you. Being the smart guy he was, he shrugged. “I beat him at cards and I want my money. I remembered he mentioned this place.” He was proud of himself when the men turned away to talk to each other again, talking about how many times Wade took the goods and ran.

 

Peter was more and more scared about what kind of man Wade Wilson was, but he told himself he had to at least apologize for running away. Especially now that there was more information about his life up in the air.

 

The bartender, a scrappy man who looked like he drank more drinks than he served, wrote down a note for Wade from Peter. Eventually he left, no use waiting.

 

Someone threw up on the stairs leading to the platform hed wait at when on this side of town, so he sprinted to the next nearest one, a few blocks away. Standing behind the yellow safety line painted on the concrete, he let the roars of the trains comfort him. 

 

He looked up and saw the littered complexion that he scanned for on the streets each time he traveled. The man was on the platform Peter was originally heading for, two train tracks away. Wade didn't see him. 

 

Peter screams, waving his arms wide in hoped the motion would catch his eye if the sound was drowned out. People look at him like he's insane, but for once he doesn't care. When he's noticed Wade drops his head back to his phone but immediately looks again, doing a double take. He offers a shy wave and Peter waves back.

 

A train pulls in, cutting them off completely. If it were a movie about lovers in the city or something of the sorts they'd each run in through the car doors on either side and meet up in the middle. Unlike movies there was still another empty track between them with an active train at all times. The vehicles moves in circles, once it reaches the last stop it turns back and collects on the other side, constantly.

 

When the doors closed, Peter hoped Wade didn't get on and leave. Before the silent prayer could form in his thoughts, he saw Wade making large arm movements in the direction of the stairs. Then pointing at Peter, he got the message. Go up and wait at the top of the stairs. Wade was planning to meet him there. It was a decent distance away, but he knew hed wait anyway. 

 

While waiting he thought about what he was hoping for since Wade was apparently not that great of a guy. He was kind and sweet and funny with Peter but he wasn't sure what to make of his ‘whores’ or scamming and violence. If he didn't want to keep this game up how would he tell him without being thrown in front of a moving train?

 

He heard people screaming so he looked up, Wade Wilson shoving people out of the way in a mad rush to Peter. He flinched as luggage, purses, and people scattered on the ground. Wade barely slows when he approaches Peter, but uses his arm that's hooked around him as an anchor to stop.

 

“Hi.” he's breathless and sweaty so Peter decides it'd be easier to be awkward if he'd taking a long time as well.“Thanks for my phone.” 

 

“Thanks for tryna find me. Weasel called me and said some twink came in looking for me.” He smiled and his deep breathing shook when he laughed. Peter's face became warm with a blush. “Your aunt seems nice.” Wade says, the thumb on the arm around his shoulders runs little circles into his upper arms. A mindless habit he's shown before. 

 

“Yeah, she's the best person to grace this city.” They grow quiet but Wade decides that's not how this will go. “Why did you run away from me? I really didn't mean to freak you out. I was in the military for a long time so strangers being annoying doesn't work well with me” 

 

“You were in the military? What branch, I know a few people who were in the army and air force, and then my aunt was a military nurse.” He hoped to change the subject. “Nah kid, I was in the Canadian Army.” 

 

He laughs “That's why some of your words sound a little off to me.” Wade's face drops its lively expression and he squares off his shoulders seeming bigger and more intimidating before. A small click in his head reminded him that now was not the time to be turned on. “You think I talk funny punk?!” His voice is deep and Peter instinctively steps back.

 

Wade stomps towards him, backing him up to the alley wall. If he wasn't so scared he'd be all over Wade, probably in his apartment and naked by now. “You're scared eh? How about we get you some nice maple syrup eh. Watch some hockey with my moose eh, i'm sorry aboot that.” Wade bubbles up again with a dopey and stereotype based Canadian ‘act.’ 

 

“Oh shit did I scare you again? God damn it Wilson, pull yourself together” The smaller man offers a smile and backs off the wall a little. “It's alright, not too bad.” 

 

Wade scans his face, another habit of his, and then steps closer to Peter, this time relaxed and fluid in his motions. “So can I get your number? Im sort of over this Soulmate A - U thing.” 

 

“Soulmate what?” Peter noted that hed remember to look that up later, and quickly made the choice that he would take this huge risk and finally give Wade his digits. Fuck fate and the waiting games. “Nevermind that baby boy, it's just some bullshit.” 

 

Peter feels the receding blush crashing back to its former position. “You've called me that like three times already, why?” Wade shrugs. “You look like you're younger than me and you also don't have alligator skin like me. Smooth as a baby's bottom, like my expert flirting skills.”

 

Peter huffs. “We are probably just a few years off. Im twenty five.” Wade shakes his head. “Oh god, twenty five?! Like five multiplied by five? Ten plus ten plus five? Years of age?!” He looks completely submerged into his blooming mini-freakout. “Why...how old are you?” 

 

Wade looks up with an expression of unrefined disappointment. “Im thirty six!” his voice is a whine and his shoulders are slumped. Personally seeing no problem,he feels let down by this reaction. “We're both adults.” he shrugs.

 

“You're like eleven years younger than me and I've been trying to pick you up off the street for a while. It was creepy before but now….Jesus fuck my luck.” He must have looked offended because Wade quickly starts explaining. It's like untangling wires, he hops from one thought to the other and gets stuck over and over, making it worse.

 

“God I'd love to hit that. I mean you. No! I mean fuck you. Like sex kind of fuck you not like I'm angry at you. Really, really like to fuck you. God I bet you'd be so amazing in bed. I bet you sound yummy when you moan.Wait that's still creepy. Sorry. It's just weird you know, you're in your youth! College! Instagram! Emojis! I'm a grouchy ex-military corn dog who looks like he sleeps in a wood chipper. Horn dog, not corn dog. Hey do you want to-” Peter holds up his hand to stop the rant.

 

“It's fine if you don't want my number, just say it. If you have a problem I get that , but all I'm saying is I like my men like I my wine-” Peter mentally had to talk himself into this, trying not to freak out like Wade did.Hes angry but he hopes being saucy could calm things down. “-aged.” He bites his bottom lips and smiles.

 

Wades jaw drops, literally opening to gawk. “Well shit…” he stands in front of Peter in some dumbfounded trance. “Do you want it or not?”

 

“Oh fuck yes sweet cheeks I wan-” Wade might have given himself whiplash from how fast he turned around when he name was called down the block. “Gotta go baby boy, meet me at this station at like twelve if you're up for it. Duty calls.” he places a quick kiss on peter's cheek, bumping his glasses before dashing off. The last thing he heard from Wade was ‘haha i said calls.’ 

 

This predatory man bolted after Wade like he was chasing the first prey hed seen in months, hungry for a kill. Wade had a good head start and was surprisingly fast for his size.

 

‘Wilson! Ill fucking kill you!’ were frequent in his raging but Peter tried to focus on noon tomorrow, in the middle of the day. They'd never met in the full sunlight and after the chase in front of him he wasn't sure if the butterflies in his stomach was from the display of affection or the hints if a criminal lifestyle that seemed to be gathering.


	6. Chapter 6

Peter cursed himself as he trudged through the streets on his way to the station his nicest pair of jeans soaked with god knows what at the bottoms. His shoes were dirtier than usual and he was furious that whatever god there was would force them into this odd acquaintance dine and dash type deal, but can't give him a break when they have a scheduled meeting.

 

He put on his nicest, but still casual clothes and gave his normally untouched hair a careful jostle with his fingers. Now it all felt like a waste of time when the ghost of the rain set out to ruin him. He bought an overpriced and extremely shitty umbrella from a street vender while he waited, in case the sky opened again. 

 

His wet socks squished inside his shoes as he tapped his foot impatiently. Wade said noon and it was twelve eleven. Eleven minutes later, just like the eleven years between their ages.

 

He knew he was being irrational but his anxious brain was forcing pieces that didn't fit, brokenly together. While he waited he grumbled through a list of a million things better he could or should be doing with this time. He should be working on some papers for his classes. For someone who says he shouldn't waste time on this one person constantly, he wasted a lot of time on this man.

 

He was a little relieved when he saw the large silhouette coming towards him but his spirits dropped when he say the large bruise on Wade's jaw. He was dressed in sweats and had a slight limp. “Hey baby boy, wow you look nice.”

 

“You're late.” His voice wavered more than hed like but he didn't dwell on it. “Oh, sorry. I slept in a little and had a slow jump on my day. God a nasty beating last night.” Even when talking about getting attacked Wade smiled.

 

“Why?” Wade simply shrugs. “Dunno. Anyway, what'd you do today? You look a little fancier than usual.”

 

The comment stung and Peter was a little bit embarrassed. “I just threw it on this morning.” His voice cracked but he didn't think Wade noticed.

 

“Thanks for waiting for me, no offense but I don't really know what to do now. Didn't think you'd show so I didn't think about it.” Wade tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy. “Whats with the face?”

 

“Nothing.” Peter answers quickly and before Wade could push he asked if Wade wanted to see a movie. Wade agreed and they walked to see some new movie about two dogs in love. 

 

Peter paid for his ticket but Wade insisted he buy snacks. They walk into the theater with an extra large Coke, a medium popcorn, and two large tubs of heavily buttered popcorn. He was worried about sharing a drink, Wade being a stranger and all, but he didn't want to be rude. Deciding not to drink from it he ate his popcorn dry. His mouth was slick with butter and salt through half the movie before Wade nudged him. 

 

“You thirsty? You can have some ‘o mine.” His lips were greasy and his hoodie had a few butter stains. “I'm good.” 

 

Wade raises his ‘eyebrows’ “I ain't got nothin. I probably look sleazy or some shit but I'm clean. These are burns, not some disease.” Peter feels a little guilty. “Sorry i didn't mean to offend you or anything.” He places his hand on Wade's shoulder and he just turns his head to look at it. Taking another stupid risk he uses his free hand to pick up the half empty cup. He wraps his lips around the straw and takes a big gulp. Wade removes his gaze from the hand and fixes it onto Peter's mouth. 

 

When the movies over they laugh and talk about their favorite parts, Peter enjoying the full volume of Wade's speech patterns now that whispering wasn't required.“This was fun.” 

 

“Yeah, it was really fucking fun. Can I get your number by the way? I meant to ask yesterday. “ Wade leaned his shoulder against the wall of the theater. Peter reads it to him and the screen lights up Wade's eyes.

 

“Thanks, maybe I can call you and we'll go on a date sometime? If you want or whatever.” Peter freezes, anger boiling inside of him. “I thought this was a date. That's why I tried to dress up a little.” He crosses his arms loosely and his bottom lip quivers.

 

“Oh my god I'm so stupid! Jesus I'm so sorry Petey, it totally left my mind.” He got closer and put his hand on Peter's arm. When he took a step back Wade dropped it and quickly shoved his ands into his pocket. His hood shaded his face a little but it clearly read remorse. “I'm so sorry baby boy.” Peter leans his back on the wall as well, closing his eyes and taking some deep breaths.

 

When he opens them Wade is roughly an inch or two from his face. “I really am sorry. I got in a fight last night and I've been so distracted all day, how can I make it up to you?” Warm eyes stared holes into his own from the sheer intensity of their emotion. Peter flicked his eyes down to his lips as Wade shifted, unintentionally moving closer. 

 

‘I don't know’ is what he intended to say but it ended up and a muddled sentence of deep throaty sounds. Wade scoffed a little. “Sorry what was that?”

 

Peter gave up on his respected title of rational when he moved his face closer. Ridiculous actions one after the other. Two months ago Peter would have smacked himself across the face and dragged himself all the way home. Instead he placed his palms on Wade's chest. He felt Wade's heart pounding as much as he felt his own so he found it useless to stop himself.


	7. Chapter 7

When he could feel the ghost of Wade's lips hovering over his and Peter takes the final leap. A hand on his chest pushed him back. 

 

Before he could even get disappointed he saw the primal look in Wade's eyes made him shiver. “Not here sweet cheeks, it's three thirty in the afternoon and we're outside a movie theater.” He groans, throwing his head back against the wall. So close to feeling those lips scratch against his skin.

 

Wade doesnt inch away, instead he leans in and whispers against the shell of Peter's ears. “But we can take this back to my place if you want.” Oh yeah, he wants.

 

Wade takes his hand and they hastily made their way to the subway and jumped on the next train. They say all roads led to Rome but apparently they all led to the New York subways. Even for the end of the week this level of people was ridiculous. People kept packing in when there was simply no more room. Wade, being absolutely huge, didn't seem like he was going to fit. He used his free hand to pull up his hood and then proceeded to drag them through the crowd. 

 

Peter ,grabbing onto the nearest pole, held on tight. Wades hard body was pressing tight against him. His hands squeezing harder. No one was paying attention, the law of the land was mind your own damn business. One hand grasping above his and one under his. Wade had him trapping.

 

Each time the train bumped a hard thrust met his backside. His knuckles turn white and his face turns red. Little pants sounded and he had to fight the urge to bow his head against the pole. Wade was breathing hard against his neck. “Almost there baby boy, god you're going to get it.” His chest vibrated against Peter's back and for a short few seconds he thought of rationalizing.

 

It was the middle of the day.

 

On public transportation. 

 

Crowded, public transportation. 

 

Wades knee pressed into the back of his legs, parting them. Peter could have died of embarrassment right there. The stop was announced and they got off so they could go get off. They weren't too far from his apartment but still a decent while away. Even if he was being reckless he was going to try and be safe. 

 

“Hold on, I'll get a cab.” 

 

Peter just shook his head. Flagging down a taxi is difficult even for seasoned New Yorkers. “I can get an Uber or something…” Wade just pressed a finger to his lips to silence him.

 

“Yo Dopinder, your main man needs a ride. Hell yeah! Totally. Oh really? I'll get it before we leave. Outside that hella sweet store that sells the really soft sweaters -” Peter opens his lips a little to let the scarred finger tip into his mouth. Wade just glares. “-just pick us up. Thanks homes.” 

 

He hangs up and pulls his hand ways. “You little shit. Playing dirty like that, what happened to waiting until the third date? Dinner?” He's smirking again and walks into the street. He doesn't look both ways and seems to just chatter to himself. “Fuzzy dice ! My man is here!” He reaches out his arm as a taxicab speeds towards him.

 

The car skids to a stop as Wade grabs the door handle, skipping back a little. 

 

“Peter, Dopinder. Dopinder, Peter. I'm going to get my bag real quick.” He opens the door for Peter and a smiling face greeted him. “Hello! Nice to meet you.” They shake hands and Peter slides into the back seat.

 

The fuzzy dice were a stereotype New York taxi drivers had around them, and many did not indulge in the decorations. However, this Dopinder man had at least twenty pairs in all sorts of colors hanging for the rearview mirror. Wade threw in a bright pink duffle bag and hopped in next to him.

 

“Where to Mr.Pool?”

 

“Home! I've got a boner right now and I really think Mr. Parker here could use a speedy arrival at the building.” Wade smiles and wraps his arm around Peter's shoulders. His embarrassment goes through the roof and he is amazed that there's enough blood in him to ignite his cheeks yet still have him at half mast.

 

The driver and Wade chat happily for a while, before a thought pops into his head. “If you are such good friends with a taxi driver who comes whenever you call, why do you take the train?” His mind wanders to the possibility that Wade really was a stalker or rapist.

 

“ ‘cause Dope here is a luxury few can afford. I need money to live off of as much as I enjoy his company. Unlike the other dope which is extremely cheap in the way of drug value.” 

 

When they arrive to the building they get out and Wade leans over the driver's side window. “A crisp five I presume?”

 

“For you? Let's make it ten.” they double high-five and Wade turns back at him grinning. “Alright Petey let's get this show on the road!” almost as soon as he grabs the bag the car's wheels squeal, blocking out whatever Wade's friend said. All he could hear was ‘Pool Boy’ 

 

The building wasn't too different from his, cheap but overall liveable. Of course, he didn't get a good look around when as soon as the door was closed the bag thudded to the ground and he was against the wall helplessly under Wade's bruising kiss. He was clawing at the greasy hoodie, moaning into the kiss. 

 

When pulling, the hood fell off of Wade's head. When the older man began kissing, licking, and biting down his jaw and his neck Peter opened his eyes. Wade was bald, his head covered in the same marks that decorated his hands and face. Its not that the scars weren't odd, hed admit at first he was a little unsettled, but he didn't really mind. Especially now. 

 

“I didn't know you were bald.” He breathes outs arching his back when Wade's lips met his again before he let them go. “I should have told you, I'm sorry. I sort of look like this everywhere. There was a bomb at my base and the fire in the aftermath sort of cooked me alive. I know I'm really ugly but-” Peter felt bad for not seeing that it could be uncomfortable for him.

 

“Fo’get about it. These pants are too damn tight.” He took one of Wade's hands and ran it over the swell of his ass and around the front his thigh to his covered erection. He bucks his hips into it, biting his lip. 

 

Wade hummed and removed his hand only to magically whisk him off his feet. Peter grabbed two handfuls of the shirt and wrapped his legs around Wade's body. In turn, the older man too two handfuls of Peter's ass. They went back to the heated kissing, one of Wade's hands letting go to feel around the room. Once he was pressed into another wall, he squeezed his thighs tightly against the sides of the hard body and used his hands to unbutton his pants. 

 

Once Wade noticed, he made a motion that could be considered as throwing Peter onto the bed. In his own mind he addressed it as being dropped, much less shameful. Wade yanked off the muddy shoes and like a gentleman, dragged Peter out of his pants. He licked his lips when looking down over the pale skin of the college students thighs. He threw his shirt at Wade, just to be a tease. Wade laid his body over his but used his arms to hold up his weight. A soft kiss fluttered onto his lips and Wade used his nose to push up the thick framed glasses.

 

A textured hand trailed down his body. “You sound like such a fucking New Yorker. Fo-getta bow-tit.” He laughed to himself as his hand scratched along the sensitive body under him. It left Peter with goosebumps.

 

“Stop teasing or you'll be sleepin’ wit’ the fishes.” He laughed too, finding it odd to be cracking cheesy jokes in the process of the ol’ in-out.

 

Wade made work and his harsh lips danced down his chest. He dragged his tongue over his nipples and Peter makes a high pitched whine. “I said no teasing!” Wade just lifted his head and winked before traveling towards Peters stomach.

 

He had just enough bulk to say he had abs with only minor changes of ‘no you don't what the fuck’ being the response. Wade Winston Wilson whistles at the sight, like your friendly neighborhood, average hipster was something special. Wade is kneeling over him on the bed, staring with some kind of lax smile. 

 

“Stop looking at me like that and take your clothes off, it's really embarrassing to be lying here nude and you're still dressed.” The intense gaze makes him shift anxiously “Technically you're not naked, you're still wearing your socks.” Wade ducks down and nips at the toned thighs. 

 

He must have decided that it was proper etiquette to be naked when having sex with strangers because he pulls the hoodie over his head and throws it onto the floor. The classic white douchebag-undershirt was left on, his sweats were left in. Said douchebag-undershirt was raised enough to flash some skin on his hip but the bulging arms did not keep his eyes on Wade hip.

 

His cock twitched at the sight of that hard body and he scrambled to sit up to reach out to just…..touch.

 

When he moved closer and finally refocused he caught the hoodie in Wade's hand, his eyes resembling a deer about to be hit with a speeding car. He ran his hands over Wade's pecs. “Why the hell aren't you pounding my ass right now?” His voice was coded in pure awe. He tenses his fingers and marvels at the way the muscles move under his hand. 

 

They're kissing again and this time Peter's lithe form is over Wades. He's grinding down like he wants it, because he does. He sucks his own marks onto Wade body, carefully avoiding the bruise. “God you're so hot, I almost don't want to cringe to death right now.” There's banging at the door.

 

“W-What? Sorry, I didn't catch that.” He sits up and grabs his glasses that somehow got thrown off. “I said, you're so hot that I don't want to die from how much cringe is coursing through my body.” The banging at the door is louder and Wade's name is called by several voices.

 

“Are you fucking serious?!” He feels like he wants to cry but that wouldn't be a good idea, and he feel like he wants to punch Wade. That's also not a good idea since he's at least twice his size and not only in socks. 

 

“Wilson you son of a bitch!”  
“Wade I'm going to blow your damn brains out!”

 

Wade sits up to. “Wait, whats wrong? Baby boy what's the matter? We can stop if you want.” Peter climbs off and starts looking for his clothes. 

 

“Beat your fucking door down man, I'm done playing!”  
“You're a coward! Aint man enough to play the game dont look to play!”

 

“Screw you Wade. I can't believe I did this! You're cringing so hard then tell me to go, and don't keep trying!” He yanked on his boxers and shirt, but he can't find his pants. “I should have known better, going home with a guy from the subway! Who the cares if you're buff as fuck? Just because a guy has some shitty jokes and has pretty eyes and pretty much looks like he could nail you so hard that you'd be stuck to the wall for days does not mean shit! How can I be so dumb!”

 

The yelling gets louder outside but he continues to rant while he hunts for his pants. 

 

The door to the bedroom was partially open but Wade silently closes it. “Petey, doll, shut the fuck up and walk slowly into the bathroom.” his voice is a deadly whisper as he slowly picks up Peter's shoes and lightly shoved his shoulder toward the bathroom door. He locked the one to the bedroom and quickly followed into the bathroom.

 

“Wade what the -” Wade pushes the bundle of clothes at Peter's chest. “I'm not upset with you I was saying I was embarrassed because of my skin. Your man got himself into a little bit of trouble and there's some bad dudes out there.” Wade pecks his lips and put the hoodie over his soft brown hair. 

 

The front door cracked and the people Peter could only assume were the ‘bad dudes’ broke into the vacant living and kitchen area. Wade helps him into the huge sweatpants and leans down to speedily tie his shoes. He hears the door being kicked down, Wade's name being screamed. Peter's heart is pounding and hes about to pass out. He pointed at the window, which the fire escape was easily accessible. 

 

“Dopinders car should be by the Mexican place two streets over. Walk slow and keep the hood up.” He throws his body against the door when it quakes. “I had a really good time and I hope we can finish what we've started some other day. As much as Id loved to fuck you senseless, Daddy has slightly more pressing matters to attend to.” 

 

Peter hurries out the window. “Good luck then Daddy.” He meant it to be sarcastic or at least funny but Wade just smirks and winks at him. He mouths ‘call me as Peter closes the window and makes his way towards the car. Hes terrified and Wades cologne eases him slightly. 

 

When he sees Wade's friend he pleads with his eyes and the door is instantly unlocked. They ride to his college, taking back roads and taking high traffic routes. 

 

“Is he...okay?” Peter pulls his arms tightly around himself in the huge hoodie. Dopinder nods. “Mr.Deadpool is nearly invincible, honestly I think he enjoys the thrill.”

 

“Why do you keep calling him Deadpool? What does that mean?”

 

The cabbie scribbles down his phone number.   
“Just call me if you need a quick lift. He got that name because of all the shit he's gotten into from cheating at bar games. Poker, blackjack,darts, beer pong, and more than anything pool. Pleasure meeting you!”

 

Peter goes to his apartment and huddles in the hoodie, terrified out of his mind. What the hell has he gotten himself into?!


	8. Chapter 8

He avoided public transportation. Buses, the subway, taxis and any other system similar. He got up earlier and earlier to travel new and unnecessary routes for his regular activity. He didnt want to get caught in a bad situation and he didn't want to see Wade.

So what if he wore Wade's hoodie that whole time. So what if he slept in Wade's sweatpants and so what if he watched the marks he left fade from his body. That meant nothing. Wade was a dangerous person to be around and he couldn't risk his life for a roll in the hay. Especially his aunt's life, especially since his Uncle Ben was killed on the street from a petty criminal. He needed to stop being so reckless. Keeping a hoodie is different than fucking some guy who is on a lot of people's shit list.

Wade sent him tons of texts and left tons of voicemails. He apologized, he asked if he was okay, he even sent a text asking if he was dead. Peter reminded himself he's not the guilty party.

He went to classes, went to work, went to Aunt May's house, he went home. Simple day. Except for the fact that it wasn't simple, he had to walk half the city to feel slightly better. He was paranoid and afraid. He often thought about horrible situations he could fall victim to.

The one he was in now had no relations to Wade Wilson at all. Some people, barely younger than himself, mugged him. Two months Wade free and he gets mugged by some twenty year olds. Stupid ones too. They didn't take his cracked IPhone 5 because it was cracked and a few models behind, even though they could still easily sell it. His wallet was stolen but that's about it since he doesn't wear jewelry and his credit card and I.D. were at his apartment from earlier when he thankful forgot about them. 

One of the men had pressed a knife to his throat. He dabbed at the , thankfully, shallow wound with the hoodie sleeve. As he tried to calm himself down he realizes that he doesn't want to walk alone. Right now he was too shaken up. He dials Dopinders phone number, just because it was a familiar face, however brief their encounter was.

“I-Is this Dopinder?” He fiddles with the lace of the sweatshirt. “Mr Parker! Yes hello! How are you my friend?!” His voice is cheerful. “Not doing too well, I just got robbed. Are you doing anything right now?”

“No, no ,no. Tell me the street and I will come get you.” relief washes over him. He gives the name and waits at the curb. He pulls his arms around himself. When the taxi pulls up he jogs down the street to it. Seeing the assorted dice, he jumps into the back seat. “Jesus Christ you're bleeding.”

Wade's face becomes illuminated each time they passed a streetlight. Peter pushes his body as flat as he can against the door. “Petey what happened?!” He reaches out to touch his face. Peter swats the hand away. 

“I'm sorry I scared you, but I need to know what happened.” His face was filled with such pain Peter rejected the thought of shrugging it off. “They just took my wallet. There was only some cash in there. They threatened me with the knife. It's just a scratch. I'm fine.” 

Wade smiles but doesn't look like he means it. “Where do you want us to take you to get cleaned up? Your apartment, maybe your aunt's? School, the hospital, my place? Tell me what you need baby, anything I can do to help.” The ‘anything’ wasn't suggestive, it was desperate. He wasn't offering to fuck him into feeling better, he was really concerned for Peter's wellbeing.

If he went to Aunt May's house she'd be freaking out more than he was. If he went to the hospital they'd report it to the police since it was an attack, even if it wasn't a problem. Thered likely be no one at the college and he didn't want Wade to know where he lived. “C-Can we just go to your place?” Wade nods excessively and Dopinder turns on the radio

Some pop song comes on, Wade's head bobs a little bit and he hums under his breath. Peter smiles a little, seeing him so raw and himself was very nice, even if he was anxiously singing to Taylor Swift.

They rolled up to the building and Peter's eyes briefly darted down the street to look for anyone who might look like they wanted to kick down the door. Wades nervous energy buzzed around him as they walked up the stairs. When he got inside Wade collected things he could use to shower and told him not to touch the shallow wound. 

He turned on the water and stripped, the dirty hoodie placed on the hanger. Once the water was warm he used Wade's soap to lather his body, ‘Blue Killer Extreme Cleanser For Men : sensitive skin formula’ was possibly the most ridiculous soap name ever. It sounded like someone couldn't think of a name and just said random words and hoped it worked. He smiles because that's so ridiculously Wade.

The smell in the hot bathroom was heaven, the same scent that had sadly faded from the sweatshirt he slept in. Biting his lip to keep quiet, he slowly pumps his semi hard member as the warm water sprays against his back. He sighs as he picks up the pace a little. Twisting his wrist draws a soft moan from him,hopefully drowned out by the water. He works his hand fast, hoping that if any sexual tension were to arise he'd be less reactive. Yeah, that's the excuse he made up in his mind.

A heavy knock is at the door and for a moment Peter considers the fact that it's those guys again. That he was going to die because Wade was a cheat at poker and they'd kill him while he was jerking off. His hand stops, just so he can focus. Then, of course, Wade calls his name.

“Petey?” He shivers and his hand moves again, slowly. “Peter I don't have any hair shit obviously but I ran down the the CVS to get you some of those little travel sized things. Do you want me to leave them out here or bring them in or-” There was no pause in his mind to think about the options.

“Yes!” His voice was much more ‘Im-About-To-Come’ than he thought it would be. He pokes his head out the side of the , thankful, solid colored shower curtain to see Wade with his hand over his eyes with two little white bottles in his hand. He found it endearing that the criminal was being so considerate while Peter himself was being a massive pervert and touching himself. 

“Wade?” He made his voice a little more breathless than it already was, maybe Wade would just jump in and ravish him. He watched through wet bangs as Wade turned around, instinctively taking his hand off his eyes and throwing them in his pockets. Peter gives a flirty smile. “Can you hand them to me? I don't want to get water everywhere.” Even as the curtain did not allow Wade to see in, he still reacted nervously. 

“Oh-Um-Yeah here you-Um right-Um here yeah here you go.” His face displays his frustration and he stumbles over his words to get to the simple yes. Still masturbating and close to climax, he moves a little more out of the cover of the curtain. He grabs the bottles and a moan creeps out of his throat against his wishes. Wades eyes are dark and he adjusts the waistband of his pants. He opens his mouth like he's going to talk but doesn't say anything. He walks out of the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh yall got stopped AGAIN lmao how does it feel to be curved?! Just kidding Im suffering over many fanfictions rn ( my new friend @Death_Herself KILLS me like wtf please write)
> 
> Anyone concered for the Should Have Locked The Door update I promise itll be there soon im just really worried people wont like it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm feeling better now. Sorry I was MIA for so long, here's some porn

After the shower, Peter was ashamed of himself. He couldn't believe he was so perverted, so inconsiderate, so gross. After dressing in Wade's t shirt and sweatpants he walks into the bedroom. Wade was pacing the room until he noticed Peter. “Shit, hey Peter.”

They make eye contact but Peter chooses to look down, cutting the moment as short as he possibly can. He has lost respect for himself, each time he's with Wade he gets less practical. He plays with the loose string that's hanging off the shirt. “Alright let's check you out-I mean I want to check you out- no check your neck out. Yeah, that.” 

He had forgotten that he was here so they could deal with the aftermath of the robbing. “What do you want me to do?” Wade coughs, wheezing and choking. “Bed. Get on the bed.” Peter bites his lip, moving to sit on the memory foam. As it sinks under his weight he recalls it molding to the shape of his back while Wade's rough- “It's a little deeper than I originally thought, but overall it's actually really shallow. Luckily you're not dead.” Wade's voice, very clearly relieved, drags him away from the thought. A loud snap draws him back into full focus.

With the gloves on Wade's hands he uses a cotton pad to wipe at the cut, his other hand lightly pressing against the nape of his neck to hold him still as he flinched from the rubbing alcohol. The air is thick as the both focus on the task at hand.

After Peter is all cleaned up Wade puts a large bandaid over it, the kind you'd use for your knee. His hands scratched against the soft skin as he smooths it flat. His fingers linger before they drop to Peter's knee and he can barely register Wade asking if he'd stay for dinner. They order pizza from the bedroom. They turn on the T.V.. They sit in the bed laughing at whatever show was on in the background as Wade talks with food in his mouth. They are just hanging out. 

He thinks about this as Wade bites down on his shoulder. His hands have a firm grip on Peter's ass, lifting his hips off the mattress. “I'm going to destroy this perfect ass tonight baby boy, you're not going to be able to sit down without feeling how good I was to you.” He growled against Peter's body, short fingernails digging into him. He doesn't know what to say in response but he doubted if itd matter. Even the simple ‘yes!’ just tumbled out as throaty sounds. 

He doesn't remember when the shirt came off but he remembers the imprint that Wade's teeth made on his bottom lip as he stared down at him. “Been thinkin’ bout that body of yours since you left my place last time. Every time I was lying in my bed,” he slowly drops back from his kneeling position and kisses Peter so hard that he can just feel how swollen his lips are. “in my shower,” his hand slithers up and down the front of the sweatpants. “and I've been wondering’ if you were thinking about me too.” Peter rolls his hips up, desperate for Wade's hands on him and not the cotton between them. “But after your little stunt in the shower I know you were.” their bodies are burning and Wade refuses to extinguish the flames. If anything he's fanning it from a spark to a roaring desire. Peter welcomed it and wished for a wildfire. 

“How many times did you get off to thinking about me? About what I'd do to you? Bet you could keep your hands out of your pants the second your front door closed,” Wade loses his own shirt, or rather hoodie. His white shirt might as well be painted on with how tight it is against his defined muscles. “I bet you make the cutest little moans when you get off, nah I bet you moan like a whore.” The dirty talk works on him like a spell. His hands grab onto Wade's arms, his pecks, anywhere he can get. He desperately tries to pull his pants down, their stances make it only possible to tug on the waistband. Wade moves his hips but does not assist Peters pathetic attempts to get to the next act. “Use your words doll, tell me what you want.” 

The sound Peter makes is nothing short of a whine. Wade even laughs a bit. “Wade, please! You're making me fucking crazy,just...please!” Wade smirks. “Mr. Smarty-Pants can't think of any big college words for me?” Peters scowl no doubt probably looks more like a pout. If Wade wants to screw around instead of screw, he decides to try and fight back.

He shoves Wade's hands off him and wriggles back so he's a little less plastered against the bed. Wade makes some attempt to ask him a question, probably going to ask if they should give it a rest, but Peter just kicks off his own bottoms and give his aching body the attention it needs. He looks at Wade before closing his eyes and putting on a show. He's the lead actor and Wade's dirty sheets are his stage. He bucks his hips a little harder, he moans a little louder. The thrill of Wade's awestruck expression watching him is so much more than the kind he got in the previous shower scene. Just when he thinks he's going to have to beg for Wade's touch his hands are above his head and he's being kissed again. “You sneaky little shit! God you're going to regret that...or maybe you won't.” He rolls them over, closer to the wall with Peter on top of him. He adjusts the smaller man's hands so his fingers are locked behind his head before gripping Peter's hips and pushing down. 

They both hiss at the contact,practically fucking if those god damn pants weren't in the way. He's starting to get annoyed. “When are you, ooh yeah, like that! I swear to god if you don't take off those pants off I'm leaving, I need your cock,please!” Wade's movements slow a little, Peter whines again. This is taking too long. “What's wrong?” He replaces his hands so ones on Wade's headboard and the others gently holding his face when he notices something change in the space around them.

“I didn't really think this through, you know?” He was confused. All that dirty talk and grinding felt harsh. His bliss dies down a bit and his heart sinks a little too as he's once again unsure of the others intentions. “No, I don't. Should I just go home?” It sounds more bitter than he meant it to. He moves back on Wade's thighs, ready to jump off and never return. This isn't baseball, two strikes is good enough for him. “I don't know.” He's clearly frustrated and he shifts, probably to stop focusing on his erection. Peter moved back a little more. “It's fine, you're not obligated to fuck me. If you're not into me you don't have to be in me.” He attempts to make a joke but it just sounds as sad as he feels. A little let down. But there's no question about the fact that he'd rather be disappointed than make Wade upset, especially like this. “No it's not that, really. I just wasn't thinking about my skin. I don't want you to see that and run away again.” Peter feels guilty for making Wade self conscious of his looks, accidentally over and over. But then an action plan pops into his mind.

He softly kisses Wade, moving off his lap and taking his hand. He gets on the floor when Wade's sitting on the edge. His eyes darken again when Peter nudges his knees apart and rubs his thighs. “May I?” When there's no objection he works the fabric down and off Wade's legs. They look just like the rest of him, firm muscles riddled with scars. Even so he continues to work towards the red boxers. Theres a little damp spot from his precome on them. Licking his lips his eyes are glued to the gift underneath the wrapping. Considering their size difference, Wade being hung like a horse is no shock. He immediately dives down to grasp and lick at the dick he's been craving for so long. Wade groans, thighs flexing. When Peter's lips part to take him in Wade grabs at the blankets. Stopping for a brief moment he takes one of Wade's hands and puts it in his hair. God he loved his hair pulled.

Wade quickly gets the message and grabs at it when Peter resumes. The task ahead of him reminds him of his own throbbing cock and how much hed like to know what Wade felt like inside of him. 

He takes all of him that he can, gagging a little more than halfway down. The pressure on his skull makes his body tremble as tears form in his eyes. The sloppy sounds coming from both of them make his heart race. He opens his eyes to look up at Wade. His jaw is tight and his eyes are cast down to him. His Adam's apple bobs at each groan and swear word, Peter trying his best to keep eye contact as he gags again. Wade pulls his head back and commands him to stand. Peter happily jumps to his feet as Wade tilts his head back. “If that pretty little mouth of yours feels so good it's going to be a long, sore night.” Peter smiles and hums. “Where are the condoms?” Wade let's go and turns around to reach for the nightstand. He takes out one of the foil squares and looks over it before placing it on the bed. “You've got a cute butt.” Peter sounds giddy as he is so close to everything he's wanted, practically in a state of Nirvana “Petey you don't call a man cute when he's trying to fuck you. It's bad bedside manner.” He rolls his eyes as Wade continues to fish for lube. He lightly swats at his ass. “I like those little nicknames.” 

He loves the adoration in Wade's voice and thrives off of the praises and pet names. Wade turns back to him and smiles. After a quiet moment of affection Wade pushes him back onto the bed. Ass up on display, he arches his back for added effect. Wade gives him an open hand smack that makes him squeal. “Again!” He buries his face in the pillow as another slap sounds. “You like when I spank you, huh? Could you be any more perfect?” He hits him again and Peter curls his toes. “Wade I'm dying here, I need you so bad!” It's starting to hurt to just roll around, almost but never enough. This show had too many commercial breaks.

Goosebumps rise when the cool jelly hits his backside. He jumps a little and Wade just laughs. “Shut up and go!” Peter groans from frustration and moves his knees apart to emphasize his point. Wade goes in without warning, Peter's body imminently shooting back against him. Not to Wade's knowledge but he had not been exclusive to his hand, he liked to fool around with various toys. That'd be fun to explain. Wade added a second finger, speeding up his motions. At this point Peter just sighs, it's good to feel good. Wades speaking to him in a way that feels good too. How perfect he is, how tight he is, about how Wade couldn't believe how lucky he is to ‘get to fuck an ass like that.’ The pet names make him feel like this isn't some weird fuck session between two guy who have really only had a few conversations. Not a one night stand, it felt different.

He jolts when Wade's fingers hit the bundle of nerves that makes him see stars. “Wade!” he could hear the labored breathing behind him. “Yeah….fuck...Im...yeah.” He feels around for the condom and slides it on for the grand finale. 

His hand goes to Peter's back while he uses the other to guide himself in. Once he bottoms out the other hand grabs hold of his hip. At first it's slow, it doesnt stay that way. He's going in with everything he's got and Peters in heaven. At first he tried to reach around to stroke him for added pleasure but he insisted he wanted to come untouched. His response was something along the preexisting praises of perfection. 

He came first, a little embarrassing but he was too tired to care. His throat is raw from the oral and screaming while Wade fucked him over the moon. He had never done that before. When Wade pulled out her went to dispose of the condom and clean up he came back with new clothes for both of them, sheets, and a wet washcloth for Peter. Even with past boyfriends no one's really brought over a whole clean up caddy for him. So he was lying in clean fuzzy pink sheets, a skrillex shirt, and some really nice pants. There was water on the table next to him and Wade left some Advil with it. He stares up at the ceiling thinking about this weird guy who was clearly some kind of hard criminal was so self conscious with his pink bedding and ripped body, who probably got in fights and who talked like a call girl. Wade was in the living room, probably going to sleep on the couch in his own him.

“Wade?” his voice cracks but Wade hears him and knocks on the door before walking in. “What do you want? I have a few more blankets if you want to stay the night or I could make you some tea or something.” He plays with the strings on his hoodie. As soon as he got into the bathroom he had changed so there was only his face and hands showing. “It's your room in your apartment. I wanted to know if you'd want to watch a movie on demand or something.” His ass hurt and he just wanted to stay and snuggle under the cotton candy clouds. He was thankful that Wade didn't kick him out. “Oh, yeah. Sure.” He crawls into the bed and then lifts the covers to move under. Wade rents some weird movie called ‘Spider-Man’ and it wasn't half as bad as he suspected. The clearly fake blonde protagonist , Andrew Garfield, was pretty relatable. He curled up next to Wade and made a little sound as a throbbing pain made itself known. “You okay Petey?” Wade had been stealing glances since the movie started. “Mmm, yeah. You really did keep your promise, I'm going to feel this for quite a while.” Wade huffs, the kind of laugh that you just exhale through your nose. It was really fucking cute. “That was honestly the best sex I've ever had. By far.” Wade has the cutest little smile on his face,starting at the guy swinging from buildings in some kind of footie pajamas. 

Peter’s cheek rest on Wade's shoulder and his hoodie was really itchy. “Can you take off your hoodie?” Wade looks at him for a few seconds and then nods, throwing it onto the floor. Peters exhausted and he rests his face back onto the warm skin and throws his arm over Wade's torso, and he just falls asleep. He falls asleep happy.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> filler chapter lmao

When he wakes up he's proudly sporting a lazy smile. The warmth around him almost lulls him back to sleep but there's something on his head, it brings his bottom lip between his teeth as an accent to the blissful smile. He gives a low moan and leans into the sensation. “You like that Petey?” 

He just nods, he’s too tired to respond and it encourages the scratching.

“I love it when you purr for me.” The husky whisper makes him shiver and the flash of soreness in his lower body makes him smile more. He puts one of his hands on Wades abdomen and lets his fingers dance across the skin. Wade huffs. “I'd love to play your little kitten games, I'm suddenly not that hungry. I'm going to make us something after this.” He winks at Peter and picks up the hand and cuts its exploration short. He uses Peter's hand to palm himself through the sheets and he pulls back on the messy brown hair. 

He picks up where Wade stops and gasps at every little tug of his hair as the olderman gets more and more worked up. “Yeah, we should have breakfast now.” He climbs over Wade's lap, not without a few rolls of his hips, and practically skips into the kitchen. Heavy footsteps stumble after him and Wade pulls a ‘Joe Cool’ move, sliding against the freezer door as Peter grabs some eggs. He pretends to ignore him. Wades personality was so fun and bubbly and Peter had wondered how hed respond to a little game of cat and mouse in their time apart. “I'm hungry, after breakfast.” 

Peters poker face was one of the most useful survival skills he possessed living in the city. You don't pay attention to anyone or anything, just shuffle around to where you need to be. Uncle Ben was a gambler. It rarely ever caused them problems since he a damn good hand. He taught Peter his top tips to avoid throwing away whatever was at stake. His pale complexion was usually the only thing that gave him away, and right now his morning wood wasn't helping too much either.

Wade nods and stands behind Peter as he begins to cook. “Looks good enough to eat.” Peter knows that he isn't talking about the food since at the moment only one of the eggs is cracked. His suspicions are confirmed when a hand comes down onto his ass. He drops one off the eggs and it splatters. He just cleans it up and moves on. He wiggles his hips to let Wade know he wants it but he's not going to give it away that hes play hard to get.

“Hmm, guess I'll just have to wait for you….” Wade's breath tickles the back of his neck.

“I'm going to scramble your eggs baby. I'm going to butter your biscuit and french you're toast. I'm going to stir some sugar in your coffee. I'm going to pour some syrup all over your waffles baby,” It was completely ridiculous but with Wade's firm grip on his hips and his lips moving against shoulder his body didn't care. “I bet you want some of my sweet and spicy breakfast sausage, I'm gonna’ spread cream cheese all over your bagel. I want to-” Peter knows that hell keep going so he arches his back and bows his head to announce his surrender. 

“I'll remember that. Ass slapping and shitty jokes are the way to your heart.”

After giving a ‘Wilson Approved’ blowjob Peter has to run out to catch the next train to his campus, content in the weightless feeling that was the result of a night, and morning, well spent. They text all day and throughout the week he's happily floating through his routines to get to the nights where he could spend with Wade.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter begins to have doubts.

Peter listens to the static in complete shock. His ears are incredibly focused on the little buzz coming from the phone. “I'm sorry what?”

“Can you come bail me out? Just swing by my apartment and dig around until you find some money. It's thirty thousand.” Wade's voice is calm and even a little playful. “You have that much in cash?!”.

Peter had always been poor and he was pretty okay with the fact but hearing that Wade has so much cash just in his home makes his head hurt. He's not a thief but he is jealous. “How does that look on me? Showing up with all that money in bills? I can't.”

“Petey, baby, if you don't want to please don't do it. But if your only concern is that its cash go to Wall Street and in the building with the silver handles that kind of look like snakes ask for Bob. Say Wilson's looking for him.” There's muffled talking on the other side of the phone.

“Wilson! Stop breaking out of your cuffs or you'll be charged with running from the police!” “Oh but I love it when you handcuff me! I've been such a naughty girl!” “Do you want to be charged for sexual harassment as well?” “Depends if you're the one harassing me or not. “Your time is up, let's go.” There's the sound of some struggle, probably the officer trying to take the phone from Wade. “Toodles babe, if you come pick me up wear those jeans I like, your ass looks great in those, if you do I'll snatch some cuffs for us to play with.” The phone hangs up and Peter attempts to regain his wits. 

From what he could gather Wade was arrested for fighting. Since this isn't his first offense the consequences are more intense. The only reason he was even considering bailing him out was because on the news he heard a man had beat someone for attempting to rape some girl. The major part of the charge was because the hero had apparently also tried to pull a knife. Violence wasn't something he approved of but Wade made Peter wonder what it'd be like to be the sort of comic book hero that Wade seemed to embody. Sure he'd be a vigilante, but he didn't see Wade being a good guy. More of an opportunist with big sexy muscles and a good heart. Peter subconsciously glances towards the mirror, noting how his body could never hold up against a life of crime fighting. 

He decides to help his boyfriend-not boyfriend out just this once because this was a little more...excusable. He makes sure to type the information he was given just to make sure he doesn't mess this up.

Dopinder who promised to ‘always be available’ forgot to mention the word always does not include mornings from six to around nine-thirty and all of Thursdays. Peter always preferred the train over everything else and it was nice to feel the familiar dirty subway air against his face. He has grown fond of the cab driver but the rattle of the train cars always brought bittersweet waves of nostalgia over him.

If he could climb buildings Peter would never, ever, climb this one. Its bigs and menacing, just begging for trouble...much like the task in front of him. When he opens the door almost everyone inside stops to look at him. Dirty jeans and a tshirt in a sea of handmade suits that each cost more than Aunt May's house. Everyone carefully moves towards desks and chairs, the view from their high horses must show him as a robber or something the poor folk do in places like this. One woman's eyes dart around as he walks towards her desk.

The ginger haired girl gives him the most forced smile he's ever seen. “Hey, is there a man named Bob here? I know it's a really basic name but my,” He doubts naming his personal business with Wade would get him anywhere in here, if they knew him at all.”erm… business associate Mr.Wilson has requested a meeting with him.” The sound of a chair falling hits the marbled floors and loud footsteps scramble and squeal. “I suppose thats him! Thanks…” He looks back at the lipstick smile still plastered to her face. She's practically shaking. While taking one of the pens from her cup holder with the bank's logo on it and glances down at the name plaque. “Miss Watson. Yeah, thanks.” 

He runs after the guy and said guy is caught at the elevator fairly quickly. Poor dude, he jams his fist against the button and he doesn't even realize the out of order sign. He takes his arm by the elbow and walk to the next one where Peter brings him inside. The man is breathing heavily and Peter just feels bad. “I need your help, okay? Just relax. All I need is a check to bail him out.” Bob's wild eyes scan his face as they ride the elevator all the way up. Peter shoves the cash at him from inside the plastic bag in his backpack. “Please dude.”

Bob doesn't say anything as he scratches out a check, filling it out and pushing the down button. Once on the ground floor they go and get got the check filled through a process Peter doesn't want to know about. He tries to thank this guy but as soon as his mission is complete he leaves to hide in the men's restroom. His coworkers watch Peter walkabout. 

The ride to the police station js hell. Too many people coughing into their arms, shirts, or not covering it at all. He knows he'll be sick in a couple of days. When he gets off the train and into the busy room he takes out the his wallet and gives his check to the woman when she explains what to do. “He's a decent guy sometimes but be careful kid. You look like a nice boy who shouldn't waste his life like that.” She makes a call into the back and Peter sits in a plastic chair. 

“Wow time for my conjugal visit already? Sweet!” Wade Wilson is practically dragging the officer behind him as he skips down the hall in his handcuffs. Everyone watches him as the officer unlocks sets one through four. He rubs his wrist and smiles at the very angry man. “Peace dudes, I've got a twink to talk to.” He strolls over to Peter and puts his arm around his shoulder. “Thanks babe.” His black eye is swollen and theres a small bandage underneath it, probably where whatever hit his face broke the skin. Another scar.

“Wade we need to talk.” He rubs his own bandage, the very shallow mark will fade away in another few days but Wade would be sporting the bruise for weeks. “About what? He stops in his tracks on their way to the tracks. His voice is hard and serious, it makes Peter's skin crawl. “I just wanted to ask what happened.” He shrinks away a little bit. Wade lets go of a deep breath and smiles. “At home. Can you stay for dinner?” The skyline has begun to dim around the buildings as they leave it behind to wait at the yellow line. He knows he shouldn't stay but he agrees to anyway. All the seats are taken except for one and Wade plops down into it, dragging Peter into his lap. Peter flips through all the thoughts in the form of a list in his mind as to what questions he needs answers to based on the public’s response to the man who was currently tapping ‘eggplant’ on his thigh in morse code.


	12. NOT AN UPDATE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOT AN UPDATE NEWS ON STORY DEVELOPMENT
> 
> 《3/30/2017》Leaving this up so you can all see the comments which I am truly greatful for!

Alright so as mych as I love the idea of this AU I cant think of a hook. The next chapter is either be the end or the second to last one. Thank you for the support on this but Ive just lost interest. It should be up soon, if not the end of March than the middle if April.

《3/30/2017》 STORY IS BACK ON THIS IS JUST BC THE COMMENTS UNDERNEATH


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yay for plot development! We arent canceled!”
> 
> The plot thickens, Emmett is inspired.

His plastic fork trembles in his hand as it dives back into the container of noodles. Wade doesn't wolf  down his food like usual, the uncharacteristically full plate makes him even more anxious. His eyes are trained on Peter like he's waiting for something to happen, he's on high alert.

“Who do you work for?” His words are heavy and there's no smirk to give away a joke. He thought they'd talked about it before but he shrugs it off him his head. “Oh, I work down at the newsp-” Wade sets down his meal and looks at Peter like he's ready to throw him into the path of a moving car. “No. Who the fuck do you work for.” His body is rigid and his jaw ticks. “Wade what are you talking about?!” His heart begins to pound as a sense of danger creeps into his mind. He glances at the door, something Wade clearly notices. 

He stands up to his full height and walks over with his shoulders squared. Growing up as the school punching bag made him almost naturally submissive in every situation, this being a time where his body inches back into the dirty sofa. Wade continues to advance, leaning into Peter's personal bubble. “Answer the goddamn question what the fuck do you want from me?! Who put you up to it?!” His anxiety kicks in and his heart echos in his ears. He can feel his eyes watering as he realizes there is nowhere else to press against. Hes successfully backed himself into a corner. “Wade,” he lets the tears flow freely, his mental control barely composed enough to keep his breathing somewhat steady, turning all his efforts onto that. “you're scaring me.”

The arm on the side of the couch curls into a fist, slamming down onto it with a loud thud. Peters head ducks down, his eyes clenched shut. The ghosts of his memory send kicks and punches at him, like he can still feel every hit he received throughout almost all of his school career. Wade swears, tripping back over the table. As soon as he hears the crash, Peter bolts into Wade's bedroom and locks the door before throwing himself onto the bed.

Sobs shake his body as he presses his wet face against a pillow. Wade is knocking and begging at the door and after what feels like years Peter cautiously peeks through a small crack in the door. Wade is sitting in front of most of it, muttering to himself and scratching at his hand. When he opens it Wade turns around but stays on the floor to just look up. He has clearly been crying too. Peter opens his mouth to talk, words unable to form.

The scene is mostly his fault, assuming a beating would follow and absolutely lost it, but it wasn't all on him. Wade is an organized criminal with a reputation in a bank  _ and  _ a police station. He has a whole bar of big scary men talking about him. He starts zoning out, thinking about all his problems,Wade staggering towards the list. Peter comes to and watches as his hand pick at the other, a large amount of blood covering the left one. “ ‘S gonna get infected.” he mutters, opening the door and grabbing Wade's right hand. He stands up and allows Peter to take him to the bathroom. He throws some contents of the first aid kit at him, turning the water on so he get wet a washcloth. 

“I'm sorry I freaked you out bab-Peter. I swear, didn't mean to. Well I did just not like that.” Wade sounds quieter than usual but his voice isn't as shaky or hoarse as Peter suspects his is. He sounds disappointed. “Why? Why'd you do it?” He looks at Wade's reflection in the mirror. He's sitting on the edge of the bathtub wrapping his hand in gauze. “Saw some guy talking with you the other day and I was thinking about it when you picked me up.” He doesn't look up. “So you're  _ that  _ kind of guy.” This is when Wade jumps up.

Peter takes a few quick steps back towards the door. Wade groans and sits back down. “No, its just...look he's not a good guy alright. Like, my kind of not good. But like a little tiny bit worse. Like a lot worse. Like-” Peter moves closer again. “Who was it? Also you just can't say ‘like’. You sound like how old people think teenage girls talk.”  Wade chuckles. “His names Francis but he's an edgy piece of shit so he calls himself Ajax. You know the fucking soap…” He shakes his head. “I don't know an Ajax or Francis. Where did you see him?”  Wade scowls. “That little flower shop you pass. The dude that is hardcore flirting with you when you check out the fruit stand attached. Checking out your peach when you check out the peaches.” 

“You expect me to believe that some intense criminal thinks I'm cute  _ and  _ works at a stand selling apples and tulips? Alright. Okay, sure.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “I saw him Peter. Pretty much bald, blue eyes, scruffy little attempt of a beard that he lies and says is just because he trims it.” 

“Are you talking about Trent” The guy that always hides the best apples for Peter to bring to May and in exchange Peter brings him a piece of the delicious pie. He always wore a little enamel eggplant pin and loved to joke that Peter could have it any time he wanted. “Trent...what the hell is it with this guy and stupid names?” 

“Trent is a good guy. He buys me coffee or whatever sometimes. I watched him squeal when a dudes puppy hiccupped and we talked about it for like ten minutes.” Wade shakes his head and stands again, slowly this time. “Drug dealer. Serial killer and he's even done some work in the good ol’ child trafficking line of business. I don't have that RAP sheet but I've gotten in some trouble and I still pet any corgi I see even if it bites me.” 

Peter snaps his fingers. “Speaking of records of arrests and prosecutions, we need to talk about your criminal history. You  _ do  _ scare me and I don't want to get into any bad shit.” Wade groans loudly, stomping his feet in a mock hissy fit. “But I wanted you to help me get him~!” His tone is nearly a screech. “I'm not doing your dirty work.”

“He doesn't know you know me! We don't even have to kill him, just hand him over to my baby girl Blind Al. That musty bitch is my kinky link to the Feds!” He claps his hands before wincing at the pain. “Wade what the fuck are you saying? You're distracting me from all your bullshit. I can't keep doing this.” He takes a deep breath, allowing his shoulders to slump as he relaxes against the sink. “I like you a lot Wade but I don't want to be an accessory.”

“But baby boy, you'd make a great accessory! A pretty little ring, cock ring.” He waggles his absent brows. “Wade, Im serious.”

“Okay, okay, okay. I get it. I don't want you getting hurt or anyone else. Mostly you though. He fucked me over before but he keeps hurting people babes. I just...I just thought you could help. I don't want you to do anything you d9nt want to. Are we still going to hang out? And fuck?” Wade talks faster and rubs the bandaged hand, his smile twitching as a frown fought for control. 

“We just need to talk. Ill help out a little bit. Only for a while. For the kids.”    
He doesn't have to a chance to explain his terms and conditions before he's being crushed in a warm, extremely muscular hug. “Yay for plot development! We arent canceled!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter! Im going to leave the previous chapter, the authors note, up because the comments are there. Again thanks! I have this whole undercover "taking the law into our own hands" plot in my head now which I feel is what the real characters do anyway. Stay tuned! We're back in business baby!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes at the end sorry im a jerk.
> 
> unedited

When Peter let a stranger sit next to him on the train he didn't do the math. He didn't factor in the hot sex, the greasy pizza and Mario Kart, or his current stride. Hes aware of the sound of his shoe laces dragging on the sidewalk as he makes his way to the once innocent space.

Wade had formed some kind of gang over the years from what Peter could gather. People who owed him favors, the kind of favors even a demon would keep his word on. The kind Wade didn't talk about. There's people counting on him to make this walk, to speak as casually as possible. He has a job to do.

He picks up an apple, turning it over in his hand like there might be a blemish on its dark red flesh. “I know you're not looking at  _ my  _ apples like that Pete, I thought you could trust a guy and then he goes looking for rotten apples.” Trent puts his chin on Peter's shoulder as he looks over to see what he's holding. Every muscle in his body wants to flinch but he laughs loudly, Trent pulling away. “Haven't seen you around lately, how’ve you been?” He smiles but Peter can only imagine those eyes smiling down at a victim. “Same old shit you know?” 

Same old shit with a side of anal and a sprinkle of gang activity. He wants to look around, he knows there's guys hiding in plain sight all around them that would get him away if anything broke out, but he has to hold himself back. If he stares too long at someone Trent might catch on and figure it out. They out apples in a cloth bag. “We should hang out some more Pete, every once in awhile for a half hour breaks my heart.” He pats his chest like a human heart could possibly be inside. Wade told him not to do anything he wasn't comfortable with or try and push for any kind of information. They just wanted him distracted. “Yeah, that sounds great” 

The jokes he made and the little flirty comments reminded him of the texts Wade sent him but the words barely sounded the same. Peter kept thinking about it, how he had to keep Aunt May away from it all. He knew she existed but that was about it. Could it be enough for a man like him to find her? Wade was creating a plan, discussing it with all the men crowded inside his friends bar late at night. None of them knew Peter other than his first name. He stayed at Wade's house and they'd whisper about having May stay with Wade's friend at his house on the property of Charles Xavier. There would be tight security there and she'd be fine. If Trent, Ajax,  _ Francis  _ was in a prime catching state they'd pretend to mug him, pulling Peter aside to get him to the ground. Wade didn't trust any of these men or women with the smaller details. He was paranoid about a spy or them finding a higher paycheck. 

“Earth to Peter!” A hand waves in front of his face and he blinks, coming out of his thoughts. “Sorry...I've been really tired lately. Daydreaming is a bitch ‘ya know?” He can feel his heart pounding in his chest. “No problem, it happens all the time. Anyway, I was saying that maybe we could have a drink sometime. Coffee shop, bar, McDonald's. I don't care where.” He can also see it like a picture in his mind. Him picking up the drinks, mixing in a little Cosby Special, and handing it to Peter waiting for him to drink it. To sell him off.

“Sounds great!” He looks down at the fruit, realizing that he wouldn't be able to eat it without guilt. What if he used the bodies of his victims as fertilizer? What if he made them work until they dropped dead in the orchard? What if- “Can I get your number? It'd be easier than waiting for a chance encounter.” 

He doesn't want to give him a phone number, you can track those. You could hack them or search the numbers to find out a name. His name. “I don't have a phone actually, not anymore. I couldn't afford to pay the bill  _ and  _ do my class work. These will be gone pretty soon,” he holds up the bag “I'll stop by in a few days. Okay?” He tries to be as subtly flirtatious as he can even if it makes his stomach churn. Tr- Francis nods. “That sounds perfect”

Peter walks away, down his usual path with his usual stride. He makes his way towards the train like he normally does with no suspicious behavior that anyone following him would notice. Except the extra stop to throw up in a dumpster. He chucks the apples inside and closes the lid again before continuing to the train station. Everything is the same except for the sweat on his forehead. 

Inside there are no seats so he stands, gripping the pole like his life depends in it. His clothes itch, his head hurts, and even worse he's scared. When hands rest on Peter's hips he jumps like one of the cats in a video Aunt May showed him. “Pete, it's okay. Well I mean it's  _ not  _ okay to just grab someone even if you two have spent so long f--Uh yeah,its me. Hey.” Wade sheepishly smiles across from him. They agreed to meet at the station the train just left, the fifth one from where Peter first got on. He looks concerned but his smile is as wild as always. Peter relaxes and responds with a tired sigh.

Wade gives him a hug. Peter was a huggy guy but Wade has him in his big strong arms as often as he can. His body was like a furnace, actually hot although his abs were so  _ hot.  _ When he was wearing a thin hoodie Peter could feel his warmth and it made him feel so safe. “You don't have to do this,” he says, kissing Peter's forehead. “don't have to do nothing but pay taxes and die. Then again tax fraud isn't that hard and I'd rather not have you dead.” 

Wade gets off three blocks from his apartment to go start walking home and Peter goes out the stop after that to hop in Dopinders cab. Apparently he was very respected among Wade's associates. He offered Peter a strawberry gummy shaped like a heart. It was something about Wade that he didn't expect, the ‘Five Year Old Girl On Crack’ thing. Wade bought things impulsively which resulted in tons of girly sheets, blankets, and sweatpants. He had a shit load of random things too, three holiday collection Barbies next to a box with huge guns inside. Peter was never the one to judge, especially if guys liked ‘girl things’ but guys like Wade were hard to find. He was a good guy right under the rough skin and criminal history. People are never what you think.

His uncle was killed by bad men, Peter was devastated. His aunt had it worse, sitting in her room all the time except to cook him meals with silent tears so her little Peter could eat well. He wanted to drop out of school to be with her and to work to support her but she refused to let him. He went to school with bullies and he always felt helpless. Wade makes him feel like he was elbow room to be strong. Help the people getting hurt. He had to do it and he decided he would. He leaves the car and walks to Wade door and knocks, the loud music make the door shake.

“You the cheese on my baguette, the jelly on my bread. The French on my toast, where the ho's at? Bitch, you breakfast. Yeahhhhh, youre breakfast.” Wades in a thermal top and sweatpants, grinding in the middle of his living room. He pulls a gun from the waistband and points it at the door, looking over dramatically and still dancing. He puts it on top of the couch when he sees it's Peter and dances over to him. “Bitch you breakfast, yeah, you're breakfast.”  Giggling, Peter entertains it for a while before moving to the couch. Wade plops the gun on the table and puts his head on Peter's lap. “Hey there handsome!” 

“Can you turn off the music? I can't hear you over this guy.” Peter flicks Wade's nose and smiles. “This is a great song, shut up.” When he pushes the remote the playful air doesn't settle like Peter expected. Instead, happy eyes and a lopsided grin stand their ground. “I'm scared...about all this. I'm not sure if I can be part of this. Im so paranoid and I don't want anyone to get hurt.” Peter blurts out all of his feelings at once, looking at Wade for any sign of anger.

  
The smile softens but Wade's not mad at him, relief washing over Peter. “You don't have to do this. One more time with him to stop it so he's not around waiting for you and then you're gone. I'll find someplace else for you to go, I'll-” Wade rambles on , like he's looking for a solution to Peters sadness. “I don't mind helping you but this is a lot to just jump into. I really need you right now” His heart pounds as Wade nods. “Yeah, of course. You know Im here.” Wade holds his hand, the textured skin on the pad of his thumb rubs a little circle onto the side of his hand. “Im here.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was really short and Im sorry I took so long to update. Ive been going through some stuff right now. Schools over next week so there will hopefully be more time.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a month later and Im still trash. I spent a long time trying to edit out some jokes because there were wayyy too many. sorry for taking so long again even though I keep promising not to.
> 
> **unedited**

Eventually Peter gets the word ‘FRANCIS’ burned over the mental image of a once friendly face and eventually he has to go see the haunted shell of a person he thought he knew. He told Wade he was scared that he might have drugs slipped into his coffee and now the hipster coffee shop is filled with random criminals that he frequently has lunch with.

The man behind the counter looks completely different with the face tattoo that says ‘TASTY’ on his forehead covered with makeup. He was selected for the position when some man raised his hand and yelled “I'll try but damn princess I'd like to give you the Cosby special” to Peter upon volunteering and he punched the guy in the mouth. Apparently his daughter was the victim of date rape sixteen years ago, leading to his prison time and meeting Wade. Peter could feel his eyes on his back while Francis grinned at him.

“So what are you thinking about?” He puts his elbows on the table and raises his eyebrows at Peter. “Oh, I've been thinking about adopting a dog and I don't know what kind” They had practiced the lies over and over again in Wade's bed. Peters near photographic memory helped them find an answer to any spin off questions they could think of. Although his heart pounds hes confident that Francis cant displace the fake story even if he tries. “I love Chow-Chows. I have one at my house, her name is Twinklepuff. It's a little girly, okay a lot girly, but she's my little Twinkie-Winkie Puff and she's just great. You could come over and shee her sometime if you want.” His smile might as well be fangs dripping with blood as he waits for Peter to accept the offer. He never had a speck of lint on him and as he sits in front of Peter in all black there isn't a single dog hair in him. “Sounds great!” Peter smiles back like he just won the lottery, bile threatening the back of his throat.

Francis talks about the dog, wonderfully detailed stories about how her coat bounces around her as she runs or how much he loves to be brushed. Peter smiles on and laughs while taking tiny sips of his iced coffee. He keeps moving his chair closer to Peters, keeps touching his arm or hand or shoulder and making his skin itch. His anxiety is catching up to him as Francis moves closer and closer. He sneezes loudly and wipes his nose with the collar of his shirt, ready to leave.

Wade devised a signal to let everyone know it's time to move out, to sneeze. In a coffee shop it's easy to hear. He was told to wipe jn nose on his shirt just to make it clear that he needed out and it wasn't just a normal sneeze.A gun sounds in the back, the tan walls echo with screams from disguised henchmen. They make a scene by screaming and running and knocking over tables. The trick is to make it look like the cops are going to show up, Francis presumably going to run before they arrive.

The shooting continues in the back, a girl in a ski mask walks in like she's confused before she starts screaming about the robbery. When the door opens and she starts shoving the money into her bag Francis is the first to bolt, several others following him. The lady dashes out the back, Peter struggling to catch his breath on the ground. A hand comes from behind him to cover his mouth and the unknown person lifts him up and quickly carries him to the back. Peter struggles and tries to get to a point where he can at least go down fighting but he's thrown into a van.

He screams as loud as he can, tears running down his face. So many things could go terribly wrong with their set up and one has. Francis could've grabbed him or one of the crooks in Wade's crew. He could be dragged off to be raped or tortured or sold to a horrible person that would do all those things and more. He could be killed. He jerks back when a hand touches his face, screaming again and sobbing loudly. His arms are free, his legs, everything is free. He's not tied down or gagged but he is still captured.

When the stranger pulls him he tries to kick and shove, only to have the arms secured around him. “Sh,sh,sh...I've got you baby. You're fine, I'm here.” Wade whispers in his ear as he hugs him tightly.

He still pulls, still kicks, his body begging him to get free and the voice is muddled behind the vicious pounding of his heart in his chest. Wade continues to hold him until he has no energy left, his body drained. His vision threatens him with little dancing spots as it's becoming harder and harder for him not to pass out.

“--s me Peter. It's okay baby, you did so good. I'm so proud of you.”

The voice begins to seep through the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. He tries to shove off again. “What the fuck Wade?! What the actual fuck?! What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?!” He starts to cry again, but instead of tears from fear they're hot and heavy, full of rage.

“I just wanted to get you out!” Wade sounds unsure of his response, like he is just realising how horribly stupid his reaction was. “So you shoot up a restaurant?! The plan was to have a pretend robbery so he'd run away! You shot up someone's business! Then you held a gun on me and dragged me into a van!” Wade lets him go as he rants, his hands flying as he speaks. “I'm sorry Peter, I just didn't know what he was doing...I was scared.”

Even though his heart melts at the comment Peter reminds himself that he is allowed to be mad, _especially_ about this. “Well I was scared too! More so when I thought you were kidnapping me!” He wipes his eyes with the palms of his hands, pressing hard on his face. Wade looks guilty, like a kid who just got caught trying to steal a cookie before dinner. “I am really, really sorry baby boy”

“Don't you dare ‘baby boy’ me! I thought I was going to die!” He glares at the bigger man, knowing he probably didn't look menacing at all. He knows his face is red and covered in tears and snot, his hair is probably sticking to his face. “Peter I know that, I am so sorry. I didn't know how to just stop it…” his scarred hands curl into fists and he takes deep breaths like he's trying to calm himself. “I can't have you get hurt. Especially not by him. I've been burned by him before, no pun intended, and he's hurt people close to me. I can't let him do that again. I can't leave those kids there, I can't -”

Hes mad but he isn't an asshole. His boyfriend, if that's what they were, was clearly having some kind of panic attack. The way his large shoulders shake and how his thumbs claw at the rough skin on his fingers breaks his heart. Peter has never been one to let people suffer. He remembers highschool clearly, how he’d shake in a bathroom stall hunched over a grimy toilet throwing up before his aunt took him home. He's still freaked out about the recent events but he's now considerably more calm than Wade. He holds out his hand, making sure to watch Wade's face.

“Don't pick at it...here.” Peter touches his hand lightly to his fist. “Do you mind if I hold your hand?” His voice is soft and kind despite the rage that still holds itself inside his mind. He wasn't some thug who would rather scream and fight then gently discuss his problems. Kindness is always the first thing you try, another lesson his aunt and uncle taught him at a young age. When Wade doesn't answer and just continues to mumble his apology speech Peter scoots a little closer.

“It would make me feel better.” Although it isn't a complete lie since it _would_ help, he only said it for Wade. He knows that he wouldn't ask for something like that himself. He's confident enough in his masculinity to wear sparkly princess shirts in public but he still carried himself to the standard that men don't instigate hand holding during a crying session. His hand opens and Peter relaxes a little.

“I'm sorry you got scared. But I hope you can understand my reaction too and that we can talk about it when we get home.” Wade nods, now rubbing his thumb along Peter's hand.

He doesn't know what time it is when they get out of the van but it's beginning to get dark. Wade pulls up his hood and they go upstairs. He sits on the couch and closes his eyes, his breathing steady besides a few shakes. Peter makes them some tea and grabs a blanket from the bed. “Do you want to talk now or later?”

“Now.” Wade takes a big gulp of the tea and winces as it burns his throat. “When I was in the military I did some bad stuff. The Canadians don't really have any battles to fight and we honestly didn't do anything badass. I signed up to get away from my home life and I guess my expectations were too high. I started stealing and selling weapons. There were some small things we went out for, mostly cleaning up messes in third world countries. It wasn't like I used the money on myself, at least not most of it. I donated a lot of it, like the saint I am, and I put the rest in offshore accounts.

Some guy came around, looking for really intense weaponry and I only sold small-ish guns that I fixed up from broken parts. He wanted actual military weapons, the big guns. I told his little punk ass to piss off and he tried to step in my face. Being a big man at the base, I ranked pretty high, I screamed back because I wasnt going to take any shit. We fought and I drag his ass out. Few days later I'm being investigated. I joined as soon as I was eighteen and I started selling guns at about twenty. So there I am, thirty two almost thirty three and after around twelve years I'm being watched and questioned. All after this stupid kid.

I see him off base and give it to him good, kick his ass into next week. I go back and everything is fine. Next day I go down to sleep and sometime in the night a bomb goes off in the hall outside my room. It's practically knocking on my door.

The place is burning and the emergency sprinklers aren't going off. The fire extinguishers aren't working and the fires going fast. Im locked in my room trying to get out. Not for myself, I know I'm a piece of shit. But they needed me out there. A few more bombs go off around the building and there's no hope. Everything's burning and people are in chunks all over the place. I bust out of my room and step directly into flames. Im screaming, there's no place to stop and roll it out. I can smell my skin burning off and I can't breathe or see. Because God can't give me a fucking break this is when help arrives and I'm put out in the snow and taken to a hospital. Barely anyone else survived.

That asshole shows up to my hospital room and pours hot coffee all over me and tells me my girlfriend isn't showing up any time soon. He killed her.He was an up and coming gang leader, people joined his little boy band pretty fast. He couldn't handle a little no and so he burnt down an army base and killed ton of people including people I loved. I was going to propose to Vanessa...we were gonna be happy you know? I started keeping tabs on the guy and he always got away from me. He got into worse and worse shit.

That's why I moved to the city, looking for him. He was last documented here two years ago. I didn't give up but I stopped actively searching for him. I've done a lot of work during my pit stops and I've been pretty helpful. I have a daughter somewhere West, Ellie, and she lives with a retired FBI agent. Its sad to say but shes collateral damage from this man hunt. On her birthdays and gift giving holidays I write her a letter and buy her something. Throw some cash in and I travel to another state to mail it. No return address but you also can't say where I sent it if you were going to look for me. She can't be involved with this shit. I'm a bad father but I have to do this.” Wade is silently crying, his nose stuffy. Peter holds his hand again to stop him from picking at scabs.

“I get in a lot of fights just to see if I can do it. Just to get a good punch in the gut to remind me who I am and what I've done. Im been arrested a lot and I've done things I can't talk about. Meeting you, talking to you, being with you is a mess. I feel like I'm using you to get to him. I'm not, I really really like you and care about you, but I am using you as bait. Thats fucked up. I am ruining your life and I could get you _killed._ I'm so sorry for dragging you into this never ending shit show.”

Peter drinks it all in, absorbing Wades past and pain. He thinks about how he has his whole life ahead of him, his work in science, his dreams of starting his own company, how he can do anything he wants with himself. But looking at Wade makes him think about that. Does he want to be successful? Yes. But does he want to throw all of this out when he's already so far in? He's not sure. He doesn't know how to play vigilante with Wade and he doesn't know how long he can handle a life like the one Wade described.

“Francis tried to get me to his apartment. He asked what I was thinking about and I said dogs then poof! He's talking about this dog. No animal hair on him and the pictures look like he quickly searched for a dog breed. He told me these cute little things about the dog but I don't trust him. I don't want to go with him.” Peter carefully gives the information, not wanting to upset Wade more. “He's trying to lure you. The ‘hey kids want some candy?’ trick.”

“Speaking of that can we talk about the van? I was so scared.” Wade looks at him with such sad eyes that Peter almost apologizes for getting spooked by it. “I tried to get you out and I knew you would scream unless something kept you from it. Id never hurt you.”

  
“Did you shoot anyone?” He asks, curious about the damage done. “No. I left money for the repairs too. The owner owes someone a lot of money and I told him I'd settle it. Didn't plan on shooting inside.” Wade shrugged. There was silence for a brief moment before he asks another question. “Have you ever killed anyone?” His voice sounds weak and Wade looks away.

He shakes his head “Nah.” Peter nods, wanting to believe that he was telling the truth but he could feel an itch in his brain that warned him about…. _this_.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay this might not seem important but it is super super important to like everything.
> 
> ***unedited as alway***

The second ‘date’ was going to be planned better. Wade had apologized to the group he nicknamed the ‘Peter Protection Squad’ and now they all began to brainstorm ideas. Wades arm is around his shoulder as he jokes with the others. The meeting* wanders off course as they tell stories and laugh. Drinking would have been part of the equation if not for Wade's terrifying speech about not trusting intoxicated minds. They all share greasy pizza and someone got punched in the gut for joking about putting pineapple on it.

For some reason there was a few tattoo machines in the back of Weasels bar and all the supplies are pulled out and piled on the pool table. “Hey Pete! Give us a logo!” a man named Erik says, taking out one of the mini golf pencils and a paper towel. “What?” he asks after Wade does not clarify the question for him. Erik laughs  “What's the symbol for the Peter Protection Squad?! Come on, you can think of something!” 

Peter looks around as the eyes turn to him and smiles. “A spider. I used to be scared of them but after I had to do a project with them they aren't so bad.” The crowd is silent for a moment before sitcom worthy ‘Awwww!’s fill the bar. Yelena Belova, a woman who was arrested for the attempted assassination of a Congressman, puts one of her manicured hands on his cheek and gives him a sultry smile. “Aren't you the cutest thing? I could just eat you up…” Peter blushes, especially when an extremely muscular chest hits his back and a large hand comes down on his waist. “Hey Pete you better be careful with this one, she's a maneater” Wade chuckles.

Although Wade assured him that many of their associates had several homosexual experiences in prison he also made sure to tell Peter that didn't mean they could be open about their relationship at all. Not only were most of them  _ still  _ homophobic, even after dropping the soap, but if someone thought it was in their best interest to expose their little group then Peter could be used as a tool to hurt Wade. That doesn't mean Wade still didn't like to push his buttons.

Wade slaps his ass to coax him out towards Erik and Peter swallows hard as he tries to will his mind away from pleasant memories of being bent over Wade's mattress. Erik holds up the design, showing it off to the crowd. After a murmur of agreement he rolls up his sleeve and starts the design without hesitation. The other machine buzzes to life and two short lines start. Wade picks up the third one, turning it on. Peter unzips his hoodie and takes off his shirt before quickly putting the thin jacket back on. He zips it up halfway and points to the pale skin close to his shoulder. “Will you do it? I don't want to use a used machine.” He smiles at Wade's surprised expression. “I don't want any blood born illnesses.”

Wade stares at him, stunned for a moment, before he grins. He leans back in a chair while Wade grabs the sketch. He squirts some hand sanitizer onto his chest, like that would make the spontaneous bar tattoo safer, and turns on their machine. He flinches a little at the repetitive stabbing. It's not unlike a bad shot but the pain is in the fact that it goes over and over again. Wade hums quietly, every few moments he wipes at the excess ink. A few times he brushes his fingers over Peters nipple and he feels a spark of arousal. Wade walks away for a few moments and returns with a second plastic water bottle cap. When he's finished he takes a picture on his cellphone.

His eyes are wide behind his glasses, the look in his eyes compliments the soft upturn of his lips. His cheeks are flushed from the warm weather of the bar. He's looking right at the camera, right at Wade. Everyone always thought Ben was his father because they looked so similar but in the picture he could see it. He was looking into the eyes of a man who came home every night with empty pockets to an elderly woman in a tiny kitchen, who came home every night like he was the richest man alive. Peter can see it all, he's in love. One of his hoodie sleeves is slipping down his shoulder and the small black spider is surrounded by pink swollen skin. 

He looks down to see the tattoo. Its lines are a little wobbly and it's sort of tilted but it makes his stomach flutter. The most important detail lies on the left side of the spider, a teeny tiny red heart. When he looks back at the table he can see that one of the bottle caps is filled with red. “D’ya like it?” Wade asks nervously, irritating the scars on his knuckles. “I love it.” He can hear how soft his voice is and he accepts it. The word love is all he can hear in his mind, humming behind it is all the things he needs to say. Wade is dangerous, but Peter loves him. This isn't safe, but Peter loves him. 

“My turn” Wade grins, hopping onto the table, and he takes out a pocket knife. He cuts out a square of fabric on his thigh and taps a finger on the rough skin. “Don't know how jacked up it'll look on these things but if all the cool kids are doing it then I want one too”. He spreads his legs wider as he taps at his phone screen. The bored expression on his face is like a mask, hiding his true intentions. The faint buzz in his left pocket is unnecessary because Peter already knows the look. He's already sold. 

The world feels slow around him as he steps forward and kneels between Wade's legs. This is the game, he's supposed to practice his straight face. If they were alone Wade would look giggle at the pun.  _ But,  _ if they were alone Wade's first would be in his hair. Peters scalp tingles out of muscle memory. 

He gets back on track, carefully he goes back and forth between looking at the drawing and focusing on the way the dull buzz shifts every time he presses down. He adds a little heart as well. Peter glances up to see Wade looking at his phone. His eyes slide from the screen down to his face, holding eye contact for a few seconds, before he starts texting again. Peter fights the shiver that travels up his spine and turns off the machine. 

After another hour everyone is done, everyone laughing and talking. Weasel bangs a muddler on the bar and looks over at Wade. “Alrighty! Now that we're done with the team bonding exercise we need to set a new stage! Act two! Who has ideas?” The criminals murmur to each other before Johann Schmidt starts laughing. “What the fuck is so funny?” Wade growls, shifting his eyes around the room. “We should take them to the dog park! You said he's trying to lure the kid to his apartment with a dog, catch him in the lie! Then we have him off balance and out in the open! We can get our dogs so nothing goes wrong.” 

Wade squints at him “I guess that's a decent idea but why are you laughing?” Johann Schmidt's face is completely red because he's laughing so hard. “We can get him to step in dog shit!” 

“Yeah, we aren't going to do that. Not even close.” Wade rolls his eyes. “Anyone else?” Some guy they call Venom raises his hand. “The Yankees are playing tomorrow and I know a guy who is ‘posed to mess up Joe Girardi for some kinda info. Im sure I could get them tickets. ‘Nuff people there that we could blend right in, like at the coffee place.” Peter claps and the rest of the bar follows, the plan is genius. They discuss the fine details before everyone goes to wherever they go under the cover of night. As usual Peter rides the train in circles before he heads toward Wade's apartment.

~

Wade pushes inside of him and Peter throws his head back gasping. By now they know eachothers bodies and Wade whispers filthy things in his ear. “Wait, wait, wait” he says breathlessly and Wade supports himself on his arms above Peter. “Want me to stop?” He moved to pull out but he winces. “I'm gonna need a minute but we can be done.” He smiles nervously down at Peter. “No, it's not you. Its just...did we...Did we get gang tattoos?” Wade looks deep in thought for a moment before he looks back at Peter. “Shit, I guess we did.” 

Peter laughs and then pulls Wade's body against him. While they have sex he focuses on them and only them. Sometime tomorrow he's going to be a different person but right now all he needs to be is Wade’s.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* _ Reference to a joke fic _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theres a whole bunch of hidden things in here, some of which are people. 
> 
> anyway i know this might look like a filler but it isnt at all


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited!

Peter groans when Wade's hands scratch along his back and he presses his face down into the mattress, just a little harder, to savor the day before the ballgame. When Wade's short nails begin to drag down his sides he finally turns to lay on his back. Wade smiles at him and it almost feels like all of this is real. Like they're just waking up to spend a day snuggling in bed, like they're boyfriends, like Wade isn't himself.

Peter feels ashamed for the thought because Wade is perfect. With his scars, his jokes, with the nightmares he has in the middle of the night, he is perfect. He smiles back at Wade and holds his hands out to him. It was on of the things he loves the most apparently, he loves to hold Peter's hands. They lay together for a while just holding hands and smiling at eachother. 

Eventually they drag themselves out of bed to shower and get dressed for the day. They play one of Wade's ‘morning games’ when they brush their teeth, seeing who can gargle the mouthwash the longest and Peter accidentally swallows some, spitting it all over the place. Everything feels so domestic, like the life Peter always dreamed about. 

He makes sure to wear his loose jeans and a pair of shoes that are better for running instead of looking nice. Wade chooses his sweats and some pink tinted sunglasses that Peter bought him when they went to the mall. They kiss at the door before Peter leaves with the tickets to go find Francis.

He's excited, the danger floats towards the back of his mind. After this is over all the criminals will drift away from them,Wade can settle down, and Aunt May can come home. Everything will be normal and Wade can be at peace. He smiles at the fruit cart as he gets closer and closer. Francis waves back at him.

He takes out the tickets and asks if they can go together, Francis’s face is blank despite his cheery tone.

They walk down the street and Francis puts his arm around his shoulder, he gets pulled tight against Francis’s body.

They turn a corner but pass the subway station, Francis doesn't let him go when he tries to step away to ask a hotdog vender where they should go next.

Francis takes him around a corner, the wrong way.

Francis,

Francis,

Francis.

They walk into a building that is definitely not the way to turn.

Peter looks around as they continue further into the house and his fear is quickly returning. There are no hidden helpers here and there is no Wade here either.“I think we can just Google direc-" 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Peter's heart is now pounding and he can't choose between fight or flight, he just freezes. Francis pushes him into a small room and locks the door before pulling up a chair. “Sit down or I'm going to hit you.” His voice is practically empty and his fists clench at his sides. Peter complies, trying to figure out how to keep the clock ticking so he can think of a new plan. “What's going on Trent?”

He walks over and punches Peter in the jaw. His hands get bound with zip ties and his ankles are ducttaped around the legs of the chair. A little variety to make escape just a little harder.

“Don't ‘Trent’ me you whore. Wilsons getting good but I'm still on top,” he practically growls in Peter's face “I have the advantage of not being half melted.”

Peter wants to cry and run but he's almost entirely shut down. He can't feel anything besides the ache in his jaw. “I have no idea who you're talking about, I just want to watch the game!” His voice is panicked but it doesn't feel like the Peter he knew a few months back, he can hear the impact Wade has made on him. “You're full of shit!” Francis punches him again. “I know you're that bastard’s little fuck doll!” His whole face is red with anger. “I don't know what you mean!” 

Francis walks to the little table in the corner of the room and then comes back with a yellow envelope. He thrusts some pictures into his face. Theyre taken at an angle and they're kind of blurry. There's photos of him and Wade talking in the bar, Wade leaning over to whisper in his ear, Peter smiling shyly at the crowd. The next two pictures are of them getting tattooed. One has Wade holding out his phone to snap a shot of Peter and one of Peter kneeling between Wade's legs. “Who even prints out pictures these days?” It's a total Wade move to make stupid jokes in a time like this and he suspects that Francis has the same thought when he shoves the knife back into his flesh.

Francis throws them onto the floor before takes out a small knife and grabs onto his collar, slicing through the fabric. He tears it apart with his hands and stabs the knife into his shoulder, above the little tattoo. Peter's throat burns as he screams when Francis yanks the knife back out. He breathes heavily, trying to calm himself. “How did you know my weakness is small knives?” Peter says between harsh gasps. The faded jeans darken to purple around the stab wound on his upper thigh.

“You're really going to talk back to me? Seriously?! Ill kill you right now! You want to die over that disgusting son of a bitch?!” He spits in Peter's face and turns away from him. “I mean...he's  _ really _ good in bed.” Francis whips around and launches at him, tipping the chair backwards and Peter hits his head against the hard floor. He takes a few more blows to the face, his glasses shattering, and he can hear the disgusting sound of his nose breaking.

“Ill kill him this time, I'm going to make sure he's dead. When he walks in here and sees what I've done to you I'm going to kill him in front of your corpse.” He's talking like a madman, like he's finally cracked. Hes clearly been as obsessed with Wade as Wade is about it. He pulls the chair up and stabs him in the thigh again. “I thought you were smarter than this Peter, I really did. Look what you've done to yourself. You're going to die because you're stupid.” His eye twitches. 

Wade showed Peter how to escape zip ties, he showed him how to get out of duct tape. Since zipties are easier  _ and  _ he needs to free his hands first he puts that as his first step to freeing himself. If Francis would just leave the room then he could get away through the window in the back of the room, climbing up onto the dresser to reach it might be difficult with the stab wounds on his shoulder and leg. He can get out if he had some space.

Francis circles him like a shark and occasionally he'll yell more insults about Wade. Without his glasses it's hard to see and the loss of blood is slowly starting to make his vision worse. The damage to his head makes him tired but Peter knows he can't pass out now. 

“He's a tough guy, you should have just killed him the easy way. He's so strong and sexy even with the scars.” Peter smiles weakly as he tries to keep focus on himself. The small square in his shoe is almost at his toes, he needs to be able to press it. Wade purchased some things called ‘Tiles’ online, they are used on keys and children's toys and dog collars. When you push the button and it sends a message to your phone that tells you the square’s location. He slipped it in his shoe earlier in the day and he forgot to tell Wade about it. He figured it would be a good way to signal for help if he needed it and he's glad he did it. “You're almost as annoying as he is, and since you think hes the shit then maybe you'd like to look like him too.” 

Francis takes a lighter out of his pocket and holds Peter's head back as he puts the flame closer to his skin. He jerks his shoulder to the side before Francis can burn his tattoo but the flame comes down on his collarbone. Peter cries and struggles until Francis takes it away. It's the worst pain he's ever felt in his life and he gags on the smell of burnt skin. That's how Wade must have felt, all over his body for so long. When his big toe finally hits the button he finally allows himself to sob.

“Erik didn't want to help me, he told me that he thought you seemed like a nice enough guy. Guess that's why he felt bad taking those pictures although i think he doesn't feel  _ that _ bad since he would've been the one here instead of you. Not only do I get to have my fun but I also get to watch Wilson's world shatter all over again when he tries to find us. He tries so hard to be the hero and all he does is hurt people.” Francis flicks the lighter on and off and he starts another rant. “Why do you want to do all of this for him? He set you up. You were the bait and now you're paying the price for his mistakes. He knew you'd get caught but apparently he's ‘too good in bed’ for you to realize he played you. You're just a pawn. You're nothing to him"

Peter knows it's not true, Wade loves him. They hold hands and watch stupid movies and eat dinner on the sofa together. But the words are still painful. Did Wade know itd go this far? What was he expecting? Will he even make an effort to find him? 

His entire body hurts and Francis’ voice is becoming more and more distant. His chest shakes as he gasps for breath against the pain.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *unedited*

There's a knock at the door that makes him open his eyes the best that he can, that pulls him back towards consciousness just as he's about to give up on it. Francis takes the lighter away, the fourth burn the worst of them all. Whoever is at the door keeps knocking and even tries to turn the doorknob. Francis storms over and throws the door open.

_Wade._

Wades pink sunglasses shine in the light from the window and Peter can hear the faint sound of a gun cocking. “Francine, I hope you aren't too mad that you're my side chick because there's plenty of me to go around.” Wade's blurry outline collides with Francis’. “If you ask me _really_ nicely after I put a bullet in your skull I'll fuck the brain hole!” Wade's voice is an annoyingly high pitched sing-song tone and the pounding in his head spikes. "Would that make you feel better? Petey might not want to join in after this but we can still ask." Francis screams, its practically a roar, and his form launches towards Wade's.

Peter can half way see them wrestling on the ground. He can sort of hear Wade's commentary. Everything is fuzzy and everything hurts. He struggles against the zipties, trying to get up and help. He's so weak already but he can't just sit there and die.

Method one isn't an option, he can't get his arms in front of himself because his legs are taped to the chair. There's a gunshot. Method two isn't possible because he's too weak to be able to pull his arms down and apart. Method three can't be done without something sharp.

He's practically a genius, he knows he could think of something if he had a little more blood in him. At the next gunshot he jerks, the tape on his legs suddenly feeling...different. He looks down at his feet, moving his good leg forward. Black spots float through his vision but he does it again a few more times. His pants are the loose ones and the plastic of the tape slowly starts to become stretched out. Since the chair is firmly planted under his weight he has the room to pull against it, the chair is the substitute for a hand holding the tape in place. His brain clicks. He notices that his shoes are untied. He knows what to do, now it's just a matter of being capable of doing it.

He kicks off his shoes easily. Pressing the backs against the chair and angling his feet so that he's practically on his toes he has them off quickly. He works his left leg in circles, the tape becoming thinner and thinner. Another gunshot is heard and he has to will himself to not cry so that he's able to preserve what's left of his sight. Since Francis was overly confident in his binding skills he only went around each ankle once, the ends of the tape only slightly overlapping. After some more time the tape breaks at the overlap and his leg is freed. A burst of energy makes him smile and the realization that he still has hope washes over him. His laughs is more like a cough but he tries to start on his other leg.

Even moving it a tiny bit hurts and some of that confidence burns out. His toes flex against the cold floor before he get another idea.

Peter chokes a little on his laugh when he starts using his freed foot to scratch at the overlap with his big toe. The theory of evolution had always fascinated him and he have never felt more appreciation, not that he ever had before now, for his primate ancestors. The hand-like feet had evolved to be used for balance and walking instead of their previous purpose of grabbing and holding but for the time being toes are still flexible. His toes curl, wiggle, and scratch at the tape until the second overlap is broken. Someone screams from a far corner of the room.

The chair has three parts on the back piece. Each js separated by empty space, like rungs of a ladder. Peters hands rest in the smallest gap and the angle is extremely painful to pull on, especially with all the damage to his upper chest. It's the issue of fitting a round peg, his wrists bound closely together, into a square hole that is the space between square panels. He jerks forwards but quickly falls back because of the pain. He scoots all the way back in the chair and bends his knee until he's able to get his foot flat on the seat. Peter lifts himself up on as much of an angle as he can  and tries to angle his hands so that one comes out before the other. Something hits his arm and pain explodes in his bicep. The chair falls forward and he lands on his face but his hands are out, all that's left is the zip tie.

At this point Peter feels as if he's underwater, every move he makes seems to drag, every breath he takes is labored, every sound is muffled. Pressing his forehead against the floor he lifts himself onto his knees. Fighting through the excruciating pain he scoots his legs through the loop of his arms, just as Wade taught him. With his wrists in front he gnaws on the locking mechanism of the zip tie and he feels a piece of plastic break off into his mouth.

Tears finally flow down his bruised face and he laughs as he stands up, swaying as he tries to walk. He tries to call for Wade but he can hardly speak with the ache in his jaw.

Peter drags his broken body along the wall as he begins to make his way around the perimeter of the room. He hears something and sees something below him but all his energy is gone. He trips over whatever the mass on the floor is and he falls down on top of it. His vision finally gives out and everything is black. There's only silence. Peter feels the pain drifting away.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *unedited*

When he opens his eyes Peter can see. The obvious ability to see the colors and shapes around him is comforting, even if they're still blurry without his glasses. He remembers it all but he can deal with the trauma later, he just needs to thank Wade for saving him. He needs the man that he loves to tell him that everything is okay, even if it's a lie.

Peter shifts to reach for his glasses but pain suddenly rushes through every inch of his body and he yelps. Someone's heavy footsteps run towards him, several softer feet follow shortly. The voices get clearer as they talk longer, they're asking too many questions for him to focus. “Wade?” His voice is rough from screaming and the taste in his mouth tells him that he definitely needs to brush his teeth. The voices only talk faster and hands poke and pull at him. 

He weakly brings a hand to his face and rubs both of his eyes. This makes his vision improve, even if it's just a little bit. 

This isn't a bunker or a safehouse. This isn't Wade's house or even his house. He's in a hospital room. At least three doctors crowd around him and five or six nurses in colorful scrubs rush around the room. 

“Mr. Parker, how are you feeling?” The female doctor smiles down at him with pity in her eyes. She's gorgeous with soft blonde hair and chunky bangs, Peter just smiles at her. “Okay...I think. What's happening?” She brushes his hair out of his face while the other doctors talk in the corner of the room with the distressed nurses. “Some old man heard gunshots and called the police. They found you beaten, shot, stabbed, and burned. There were rashes on your wrists as well. You had lost a lot of blood, there was a literal trail of it on the floor. You suffered hypovolemic shock, cerebral edema,very deep stab wounds, a bullet wound, several third degree burns, internal bleeding, a broken nose, and you were put in a medically induced coma.” 

Peter blinks for a moment, letting the information trudge through his tired mind. “Im-Im a scientist. I know what that means.” She laughs and brushes his hair again. “Yes, when it was in the news we got a visit from Tony Stark. He identified you and told us to do whatever is necessary. You're a very smart kid.” Peter lets some time pass again, Tony Stark would pay for his medical bills  _ and  _ his college courses that he hasn't been to for at least a month. The man was an old friend of his father and his passion for science and engineering had given Peter his future, it was also giving him a second chance to go through with it. 

The woman, Dr. Gwendolyne Stacy, explains his treatments and the other doctors eventually come over to talk him through some things as well. He had been in the coma for nearly two weeks. “Did I have any visitors?” He asks hopefully. None of the doctors answer for awhile. “If it wasn't for Tony Stark we wouldn't have known who you are. Your emergency contact didn't answer and we had no other information on who to call. A man around your age came in a few times but that's it.” 

The sadness almost outweighs the physical pain. Nobody came to see him when he was practically dying. Aunt May couldn't have, her number was for her house phone and she was far away from the city where she's safe. But where was Wade? Was he dead? Peter breathes heavily and everyone tells him to calm down before he messes with one of the monitors. He didn't have that many friends but he feels so meaningless when nobody thought of him at all. One of the nurses speaks up. “I think his name was Dolph something.” Peters mind blanks, he doesn't know who it could be. “Do you mean Dopinder?” she just shrugs. At least there's that. 

Peter nods along while the doctors keep talking, while the nurses check his vitals, and suddenly realizes how empty he feels. He feels like a deflated version of the balloon men outside of car dealerships, like a disproportionate ragdoll. “You must be tired, we'll let you rest and continue in the morning.” Dr.Stacy and her colleagues leave, leaving Peter and two nurses.

The female nurse changes his IV bag and the male nurse starts writing on his clipboard. Peter notices her deep red hair falling out of its ponytail. She smiles at him. “Im glad youre doing better. Your body is working a little faster than we originally thought and you should be good as new in no time at all.” The guy laughs “If I didn't have your paperwork right here I'd be convinced you were some kind of superhuman! You're nowhere near patched up but you're doing great so far!” He smiles at their kindness. “Oh! You mentioned that you wear glasses right? If you know your prescription Clint can write it down and we can send out for a pair. You'll be here for awhile and straining your eyes won't do you any good.” 

Once his prescription was written down Peter is finally alone, the quiet only disrupted by the machines beeping. Everything hurts despite the painkillers but he feels strangely at peace. He tilts his head down to look at his chest. His tattoo barely peeks out from one of the large pieces of medical gauze that's taped to his body. He looks from bandage to bandage but the little drawing calls to him, he can feel tears beginning to form.

Peter knew this was likely but he did it anyway, so caught up in his dangerous love life. All his life he had been boring and all his life he has known boring people and he was so drawn to Wades exciting world. Now he looks down at his broken body in a hospital room all alone. Wade isn't in the room with him, Wade didn't visit him. Peter is angry, he's heartbroken, he's disappointed in himself. Even though he wants to blame Wade he knows he's made his choices. Despite everything his pity party feels unjustified, like he doesnt deserve to feel sorry for where he's put himself. In the back of his mind he wonders if Wade is dead.

He pushes the call button on the remote he was given and Clint walks back into the room almost instantly.“I cant sleep, is there anything you guys could give me?” he asks quietly and Clint pats his knee over the blanket. “Don't worry about it buddy, we'll see what we can do.”

He gets another heated blanket and a thirty milligram shot of temazepam into his arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT ITS PRACTICALLY BEEN A YEAR SINCE IVE STARTED THIS MY UPLOADING HABITS HAVE REALLY BEEN SUPER AWFUL


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short and unedited

Peter spends two weeks alone in the hospital until he gets a visitor. Dopinder smiles at him from the doorway with an overpriced teddy bear from the hospital gift shop. A familiar presence is a welcomed contrast to the constant flow of nurses within the boring room but now Peter is forced to acknowledge the dreadful thoughts that have been threatening to overcome him. If he was able to fall asleep without medical interference then he'd dream of Wade, his skin and his eyes and his smile and-

Peter smiles at Dopinder as he drags a chair over to the side of his hospital bed. Dopinder babbles about his day, his week, his love life, and his mother's seventy eighth birthday party. He can't bring himself to care but he listens anyway. Years of being a perfect student allowed him to fight boredom and a lack of interest so he could still absorb the information and interact with the speaker, a skill that serves him well through the story about Dopinder finding a stray puppy that threw up on his new shoes. Peter just nods and gives short answers when needed but he allows his mind to wander, only a little bit.

After a brief moment of daydreaming Peter refocuses when Dopinder pokes his arm. “Can I see?” He says, clearly excited about whatever he's requesting. “See what?” Peter asks, a little more tired sounding than he expected but Dopinder doesn't seem to care too much. “Everythings gotta be scabbing over by now, right? Can I see? Please?” Peter blinks at him for a moment, just processing the strange comment before he pulls down the collar of the pajamas the hospital provided him. 

Peter peels off the bandages, the wounds had started to heal but they still have the disgusting tinge of color to them and looking down feels like it's all happening all over again, the PTSD that he was diagnosed with earlier in the week flaring up, vivid images of Francis crowd his mind. His heart monitor changes its tone of beeps until he calms down. Dopinder stares at his face for a while before leaning over his body. While carefully inspecting each lesion at eye level Dopinder whispers something against his skin.

“What?” Peter asks and Dopinder snaps his head to look at him. “They look so gross! Its awesome! I was just trying to get a better look, I dont have my glasses.” he says in a strange tone. “Oh, I've never seen you with glasses...but what did you say?” Dopinder’s eyes plead with him before he goes back to looking at the healing injuries. He whispers again.

_ “He's okay, he can’t see you yet, not right now, but he is okay.” _

Dopinder sits up and reclines in his seat like he hadn't just made Peter’s head spin. “What do you…” He wants to ask questions but the way the taxi driver is staring at him makes him feel like he shouldn't. “What do you think of my room? Pretty sweet right?” Peters mouth is dry and his tone is almost as flimsy as his cover. He was just quick enough to make it sound like a skip in his speech and not a realization of danger.

They talk like friends do, to anyone else it'd look like small talk but Peter can feel how shallow the conversation is, how neither of them are any good at this. He practices steady breathing and calls in a nurse to bring him some water. Peter’s mind feels trapped in the invisible space between Dopinder and himself. That seems to be the only safe place to think about Wade. 

When Dopinder gets up to go it's dark outside and the nurses have already traded shifts. Once again he's alone in the hospital room with his thoughts. A janitor knocks on the door until Peter tells him to come in, the same as every night. The janitors are required to wear face masks and long latex gloves that reach up to their elbows just like the nurses, after an incident two years ago when a staff member contracted a disease from a patient's blood. He didn't look out of the ordinary besides his long sweatshirt but shortly before Dopinder left he had requested extra blankets and socks because his legs were freezing cold. With a tired sigh Peter closes his eyes and listens to the man rustling around the room with his trash. When he opens them the janitor is standing over him, their noses practically touching. Peter's stomach drops when he recognizes his eyes.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited

“Hey baby boy, long time no see.”

He knows that Wade is smiling, the way his eyes squint lets Peters heart know that it's really him and that he's happy. Peter feels tears slide down his cheeks as he just stares at Wade's face. His face looks different, like he just smeared liquid latex over it to try and even out the texture of his skin. Despite the strange makeup a weight is lifted off his shoulders when he finally sees Wade's face. The face he's been missing and dreaming about and crying over. Wade.

He doesn't know what to say so he says nothing, allowing his silent tears to flow. He holds no anger about what happened to him, he kept putting himself in it and Wade was nearly begging him to back out the whole time, as an adult he can take responsibility for his own actions. Wade doesn't speak either and soon his eyes start to water as well. When his first tear trails down his face he touches Peter's cheek with a gloved hand. “Don't.” Peters voice sounds like utter heartbreak and he closes his eyes to rid himself of what he knows is going to come next, trying to freeze himself in those eyes. “Petey…”

“Dont.” Peter stops him again, even though he leans his face further into the caress. “Peter. I need to leave.” Wade doesn't sound sad. He doesn't even sound mildly distressed. He sounds trapped, like a caged animal who knows he can never be set free. In some way, Wade is trapped, Peter has come to accept this. “Then I'm going to come with you."

It's such an easy thing to say. He's been preparing for this for so long that he's already made up his mind. He'll stay with Wade, the man he loves. Wade is a track runner at the starting line positioned to take off, every fiber of his being is always waiting for the signal to bolt. At this point Peter is ready to go with him. Aunt May can stay safe in her house and his career pursuits can go back to the impossible dreams that they used to be when he was a child. He picks Wade. A life on the run doesn't sound like a life he wants but he needs Wade, he can no longer invision his soul at peace without the unknown magnetic force that keeps pulling them together. There's something so powerful between them and after all he's been through, mentally and physically, he can't let go of that. He knows it's not right, safe, or fair but he needs Wades energy like he needs the blood in his veins. He's changed too much to be who he was before that train ride, even if he went on without Wade he'd never truly be the same. The caterpillar does not go into his chrysalis with the intent of coming out as he is, a force of nature much older than he could ever know turns him into a butterfly whether he likes it or not.

When Wade argues, as Peter expected he would, all he can do is wait for him to finish. Every breath of “absolutely not" or “it's not safe for you" or “I can't let you" has been anticipated. Peter ran every possible line of resistance and disapproval through his head thousands of times. It is more of his tone that encourages the waterworks, hearing him say it hurts. “I've made up my mind, I'm going if you do.” Wade leans into him, just a little more. “Don't Titanic me Peter Parker, there's no you-jump-I-jump or I'll-never-let-go bullshit. I need to leave and you need to stay in this hospital so you can get better.” He wants to scream, Peter can read the quick rise and fall of his chest as if Wade had confessed his fears outloud. The panic in his lungs is a familiar sight. “But I'll let you draw me naked in my diamond necklace if you let me go.” 

The sad chuckle they exchange is a secret sob that they share, their jokes are some of their fondest memories and they will most likely never make more. Wade pulls his face mask down and kisses Peter like they're in a movie, like this is the last moment before he leaves for war or like he's about to die, the kind of kiss that says goodbye forever. Peter kisses him back, their tears mix on their cheeks but the kiss is...happy. Fond memories are still fond and the good times will never cease to be good. Even if when they part lips they go to live separate lives Peter can feel the imprint on his soul, he knows the marks on his will never leave and stay forever to remind him of all they've been through.

Wade breaks the kiss first.

Peter doesn't let go of his hand. 

They look at each other for a little while longer, Wades eyes have always captivated him. “If you leave I'll follow you. Even if Im two cities behind I'll still follow you. Even if you fly to Australia and live as kangaroo I'll find you eventually.” Peter pulls down his shirt, he hasn't told a nurse that he took the dressing off yet, and he watches the pain flood Wades expression. “You did this to me. Not directly but you're in the chain of fault. You did not do this to me so that you could run off. I put myself here but you did too.” Wade winces at his words and Peter knows its unfair, especially since he only blames himself, but Wade won't listen if he doesn't say it. Some part of Peter should admit that Wade played a role that was more significant that he acknowledges, that he didn't just stumble into Francis’ grasp. But that's not what he needs now. 

“Peter you can hurt my feelings all you want but you're not coming with me. Especially since you're in a hospital and you're getting treatment.” He sighs, starting to become frustrated. “Wade. I'm going.”

Wade jerks his hand away and turns away from Peter. He spins back around and kisses him hard before storming out with his trash can.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE FINAL CHAPTER!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> *unedited*

The newspapers call them thugs, running through the streets at night with guns and knives and flying fists. The witness reports on the news call them guardian angels, many escaping muggers or rapists or other nightly dangers of the city. Peter doesn't know what to call them.

After the hospital released him he went back to school. He got his degrees and he got his dream job. Peter goes to work every day and eventually he goes home every night.

_ Eventually. _

He takes the subway home, just like he has since he was a little kid. He puts his hood up and takes a spot wherever there is room. He has gotten used to the amount of sleep he's able to get with work so his eyes don't flutter closed in the bright train cars anymore. He walks home, glancing down each alley as he passes them, bad memories keep his senses finely tuned. More often than not he'll hear someone behind him, the echoes of the heavy steps just loud enough to be threatening. But Peter isn't scared of the city anymore. 

Every once in awhile there will be a fight outside of a bar or a man who can't understand the word no but he typically just listens for the sounds of the city while he walks. He likes to think that there's good in the world on quiet nights like those. When he gets home he takes a shower, eats his food, and goes to bed. 

His life has returned to normal, the same routine everyday, and it's peaceful.

The subways hold good memories, even if he takes a few blows to the face now and then.

The walks home are calm, even if the bad guy gets away.

His home is still safe, especially with large arms holding him tightly.

Their vigilante work is dangerous but Wade is always a few feet behind, enough to avoid suspicion from onlookers. They practice fighting and go to the gym on the days Peter doesn't work to improve his technique for when night time washes over the city. They're good together in some weird way that Peter can't describe. They Are happy together.

Peter loves the look on Wade's face after they beat the crap out of a bodega robber, the way his eyes shine when they drop small children off at the doorway of the police station.

Wade has gained a few scars during their nightly pursuits and Peter has too. Scattered over his skin are little white marks, little memories. Even if they aren't good memories, he's accepted them. To romanticize his scars, in times when he locks himself in the bathroom because he can't handle the tightness in his chest, he likes to think that they're little splashes from Wades life onto his. He knows that he must be really fucked up from it all but he doesn't care too much.

Late at night he likes to peek at Wades face while he sleeps, to see how calm he has become. He's still on edge, still so paranoid, but he doesn't seem like a man on the run. Peter's had fleeting thoughts about being something more with Wade but he's accepted their lives as they are. Afterall, Wade will never truly stop running.

Sometimes Peter has nightmares, Wade does too. But he likes to think that their work is worth it all.

He snaps out of his thoughts when the train jerks again, watching new passengers shuffle in and old ones stumble out. A man drags a girl with him into the corner of the train, both of them sitting down next to each other. The girl's eyeliner runs and the man clenches his fists, their conversation is almost too far away for him to hear. His eyes scan the car after he hits her. Nothing. Nobody says anything and if they did they're sticking to the rules of the city. At the next stop a man moves seats, standing right infront of the distressed couple. “Hey man, do you mind if I sit here?” The aggressor just shrugs and turns back to the woman.

Wade catches his eye after he sits down. Peter smiles at him when the man pulls the woman's ponytail. When Wade throws him onto the floor of the train Peter motions for the stunned woman to come sit with him. Some people take out their phones, some try to break up the fight, and some people don't seem to notice the two men brawling on the ground. At the next stop Wade bolts out of the train and the woman slinks away. Peter leaves as well, taking another train to go home.

It's a typical Friday night on a subway train and usually after three rounds he'd start looking for some alley fights. He gets on another train, and asks for a seat next to someone new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support on this! Its technically been ready since 12/23 but I wanted to add a few more things since it's so short. I ended up not doing it, I personally think it's perfect like this.
> 
>  
> 
> So, incase it doesnt make sense to anyone here's a little explanation. Basically it's a Spider-Man lifestyle. Peter and Wade live their lives normally but at night they do anonymous acts of vigilance on the subway.


End file.
